


I Can Love You Like That

by LSUsweetie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fred Weasley Lives, Fremione Fanatics 2020 Yule fest, Secret Admirer, fairy safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27168386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSUsweetie/pseuds/LSUsweetie
Summary: After witnessing a tender moment between two of her friends who are ridiculously in love, Hermione begins to wish for someone to share her life with. Soon, she begins to receive gifts from a mysterious secret admirer. Will her wish come true in time for Christmas? Can she find love with her secret admirer, or will she fall for someone else instead?Written for the Fremione Fanatics 2020 Yule fest.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 441
Kudos: 392
Collections: Fremione Fanatics 2020 Yule fest





	1. The Christmas Admirer

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like I've been looking forward to this fest forever! I'm so excited to read all of the fluffy Fremione holiday goodness! Thanks to moonfairy13 and PrettiestStar17 for organizing this for us!
> 
> This story is complete with eleven chapters plus an epilogue. Updates will be every other day. The epilogue will be posted on December 23.
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, WrathofMacy! Not only did she edit this story for me, but she also made all of the amazing graphics that you'll find throughout the story. 
> 
> Thanks to moonfairy13 for pre-reading, pointing out all of my Americanisms, and offering encouragement and support.

Hermione stood, transfixed, as she watched the tender moment unfold. Her heart clutched as George greeted his heavily pregnant wife with such care. Sighing quietly, she leaned against the wall, absorbing every detail of the scene before her. Love like theirs was exactly what was missing from her life, and she wanted it desperately.

George’s large hands cradled Angie’s round tummy and, leaning down, he softly kissed her bump. He stood then, gazing at his wife with the utmost devotion and adoration, before capturing her lips in a much more steamy embrace. They were amazing together. It was obvious to anyone who saw them how in love they were. 

An errant tear ran down Hermione’s cheek; this was the kind of moment she feared that she would never get to experience herself.

A small noise behind her brought her back to reality. Quickly glancing around, she made a mad dash for the stairs. Her survey of the room didn’t reveal anyone, but in a house full of witches and wizards that didn’t ease her mind. She really hoped that no one had seen her like that. Explaining why she stood there alone, crying as she watched the happy couple, wasn’t something she ever wanted to do.

Once she was safely ensconced in the Weasleys’ bathroom, Hermione allowed her thoughts to wander again. Honestly, she knew that she had nothing to complain about. She’d built a wonderful life for herself and she felt guilty that it didn’t feel like it was enough. At only twenty-five, she had a successful and fulfilling career, a lovely home, and wonderfully supportive people that she considered both family and friends. The only thing that was missing was someone to share those little moments with; someone who would wake beside her every morning and hold her close in intimacy, joy, and sorrow.

Was it so wrong to want someone who would look at her the way that George looked at Angie? That Bill looked at Fleur? That Mr. Weasley looked at Mrs. Weasley? There were examples all around her. In fact, she was the only single one left in her group of friends, aside from Fred that was, but she never counted him because he appeared to have absolutely no desire to settle down. 

Deciding that she’d been gone long enough to be missed, Hermione splashed cold water on her face. Peering into the mirror above the sink, she firmly told herself to put it all aside. Someone would surely notice if she was withdrawn and pensive when she should have been enjoying Molly Weasley’s Sunday roast.

Upon her return to the kitchen, she saw that everyone had arrived and they were all sitting down to eat. Hermione, along with Ginny and Angie, had come by early for a pie-making lesson with Mrs. Weasley. Everyone else had been invited as well but, for various reasons, they hadn’t been able to make it. That’s how she’d inadvertently witnessed George’s reunion with his wife. He’d been with Fred all afternoon working on a new invention for the shop. Anyone who didn’t know that it had only been hours since he had seen his wife would have assumed that it had been days or even weeks. 

Sighing, she chastised herself for thinking about that moment again. If she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity someone would notice. Pasting a smile on her face, she joined the others. 

As they sat down for the meal, Hermione found herself next to Fred. That was fine with her. She knew that he would keep her laughing and distracted. Somehow, Fred always noticed when she felt down and he went out of his way to cheer her up. It had been that way since the end of the war. He’d nearly died and that experience had changed him. He hadn’t lost his love of laughter, or stopped pranking others, but he was much more observant and kind than he’d been in the past. Whatever it was, maturity was good for him.

Midway through the meal, Fred was drawn into a conversation with George, who was seated on his other side. Hermione found herself gazing around at all of the couples at the table. Children were slowly being added into the group and she found herself longing for that as well.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a finger playfully poking her side. She startled in surprise, and because it tickled. “Prat!” the admonishment slipped out of her mouth automatically, “What was that for?” 

“You’re too serious today,” Fred grinned. “ How are things with whatshisname? Jacob, was it?”

What on earth? That came out of nowhere. Furrowing her brows in confusion, she didn’t know anyone named Jacob. After thinking for a moment, she asked, “Do you mean Jonathan? I haven’t been on a date with him, or anyone else for that matter, for nearly six months. Where have you been?”

He shrugged. “If you want a dinner date, I’ll volunteer my services.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned in her seat to face him fully. “Your _services_? I don’t want a pity date, Fred.” She lowered her gaze, not wanting to meet his extraordinarily perceptive eyes. He’d clearly noticed that something was off with her today, and he was trying to figure out what it was. “Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

Muttering something under his breath, he turned away. She thought it sounded like he said, “More like the right idea,” but that couldn’t have been it. 

She went back to picking at the remains of her meal, thinking that maybe she would go home early. Her mood really wasn’t improving; it was possible that being surrounded by all of these happy couples wasn’t the best thing for her today.

Just as she contemplated thanking Mrs. Weasley for the lovely meal and departing, Fred spoke loudly next to her, “Who’s up for a snowball fight? We could divide into teams.” 

The others quickly agreed. Fred turned to her with an expectant expression. “What about you, Hermione? You look like you could do with a bit of fun.”

“Sorry, but I need to be going soon. I have that big order to fill for St. Mungo’s this week and I need to get started.”

Fred shook his head, placing a hand lightly on her arm. “All the more reason to stay. You need some physical activity before you disappear into your dungeons for the rest of the week.”

“My potions lab may be in the basement, but it’s not a dungeon,” she retorted, incensed. But as everyone else chimed in, urging her to stay, her resolve weakened a bit.

In the end, it was Victoire who convinced her. The adorable, blonde-haired five-year-old came around the table to climb into her lap. With her little hands busily playing with Hermione’s curls, she begged, “Auntie Mione, you can’t leave now. You promised to read my new book to me later.”

She had promised, and she could honestly do with some fun in the snow. Maybe it would break her out of this rotten mood.

That night as she got ready for bed, it was with a smile on her face. Hermione was happy that she’d stayed and enjoyed the time with her friends; family, really. They’d all been her chosen family for years, and when she hadn’t been able to restore her parents' memories after the war, they’d become her only family.

The snowball fight had even been fun. Best of all, she’d gotten to smash a snowball right into Fred’s face. They’d ended up on teams with the women against the men and, at the end, she’d scored the winning point with that shot.

***

Hermione sighed deeply in exasperation. The perimeter alarm that she’d installed to warn her of visitors when she was busy with her work had just alerted her to someone’s presence at the muggle entrance of her home. When she’d purchased the house in a muggle neighborhood just outside London, she found, to her mild annoyance, that there were frequent visits from neighbours, salespeople, and other random persons. 

She glanced at the monitor for the camera that she’d installed so she could determine if something genuinely needed her attention. Coming up her walk was a young man who looked like he had some kind of delivery. She hadn’t ordered anything, so she suspected that he had the wrong address, but it wouldn’t hurt to stop for a moment and redirect him in any case.

As she jogged up the stairs to the main level, she cursed under her breath. The interruption was not welcome. It was already midday on Wednesday and she had a major order of her specialty healing potions due to St. Mungos the following afternoon. Her recipe was far too fiddly to trust to other brewers, so she did it all herself. Yes, she could admit that doing it this way sometimes caused her to stress about deadlines, but at least it was all done properly.

Pulling open the door, she smiled at the man who stood there. He was quite fit, she observed as she asked, “May I help you?”

His eyes roamed her figure before he answered and she cringed a little, imagining how she must look after a solid morning of brewing. “Hello, I have a delivery for Ms. Hermione Granger.”

Ready to direct him to a different address, Hermione was taken aback for a moment. “Yes, that’s me. May I ask what it is? I haven’t ordered anything.”

He grinned. “It’s lunch. I’m from the Italian place, Trattoria Bella Rosa, over on Beech.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you delivered here! I’ve been meaning to try it, I wish I’d known that you did deliveries.”

Looking slightly uncomfortable, he admitted, “We don’t typically deliver. Someone came in an hour ago and placed an order for you. He offered us a very generous tip if one of us would bring it to you. The owner is quite the romantic, so she agreed. I got the tip and the delivery job.”

Hermione’s heart pounded. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or fear. Who would send her a random delivery like this? Meeting the eyes of the delivery man, she pleaded, “Can you give me a description of the person who placed the order? Did they leave their name?”

He was already shaking his head before she finished. “Sorry, I can’t. My nonna, that’s the owner, would have my head if I blabbed. Like I said, she’s quite the romantic.” He shrugged apologetically. “There’s a card in the bag, maybe he signed it.”

Reluctantly, Hermione accepted the bag and thanked him before closing the door. She knew that the restaurant must have prepared the food themselves, but there was always the possibility that a magical person with ill intent had used the Imperius Curse. The delivery man hadn’t shown any of the telltale signs, and no one but her closest friends knew where she lived, but she had to check.

After using every detection spell that she could think of, she carefully opened the bag. A delicious scent wafted out, reminding her how hungry she was. She remembered the slice of toast that she’d brought downstairs with her that morning and failed to eat. 

Even though she was starving, she was more curious about finding a clue that might reveal the sender of her mystery meal. Searching the bag, she found the aforementioned card. She ripped it open and read:

_Hermione,_ _  
  
_

_I know that you’re busy with that big order for St. Mungo’s and I’m willing to bet that you’ve forgotten to eat. Take a break and feed yourself. You’ve never failed to complete a task that you promised to finish, and I know that you’ll meet your deadline this time too._

_However, I also know that you don’t take care of yourself when you get caught up in a project. So, sit down and enjoy. Don’t take this back downstairs with you where you’ll forget it like you’ve likely forgotten a pot of tea and whatever you grabbed for your breakfast._

_Hopefully one day you’ll see me the way I see you and allow me to take you on a proper date to a lovely little Italian restaurant. I would love that._

  
  


_Always,_

_Your Christmas Admirer_

She read the note three times, finally admitting to herself that it didn’t contain any real clues about the identity of the sender. The only thing that she really knew was that the person was male. 

Closing the card, she examined the front, brushing her fingertips against the lovely silver foil Christmas tree adorning the simple white notecard. But there was nothing that would tell her where it was purchased. It was the type of thing that could be found in any muggle stationary shop this time of year.

Admittedly, someone would have to know her fairly well to know all of those details about her and her work, and her life in general. But would they really? Anyone who went to Hogwarts when she was there would have known that she easily got caught up in projects, neglecting meals, sleep, everything except whatever task she was focused on. And if someone was determined enough and knew where to look, they could easily find that she had an order to deliver to St. Mungos.

Sighing, she closed the card and picked up the bag of food, carrying both into the kitchen. Feeling confident that there had been no ill intent, she followed the instructions in the card. Sitting down to eat the wonderful meal of perfectly cooked spaghetti and meatballs, she couldn’t help but imagine who her admirer might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, leave me a note, and scroll up to subscribe. The next chapter will be posted on December third.
> 
> Don’t forget to check out all of the amazing Fremione holiday stories that have been written for Fremione Fanatics’ Yule fest. They will be posting all month long!


	2. Film Night Snuggles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos! I truly appreciate the support! 🎄❤️🎄
> 
> Thanks again to my awesome beta, WrathofMacy!

Hermione added a couple of logs to the fire that she’d built in her sitting-room hearth. Then, going from room to room, she lit a few gingerbread scented candles, checking to make sure that everything was tidy as she went. Her friends were coming over and it was the perfect cold, snowy night to stay inside and watch a Christmas film. 

They tried to do this monthly, taking turns to host, and it was her turn. They’d missed November but managed to have a large enough group for tonight; only Percy and Oliver couldn’t make it this time. They were attending Oliver’s holiday quidditch banquet. 

After leaving Hogwarts, Hermione discovered that she genuinely loved to fuss in the kitchen, and typically tested new recipes when she hosted film night. Unfortunately, with the huge order that she’d filled for St. Mungo’s and delivered on Thursday, followed by a much smaller order that she filled for a specialty apothecary the previous day, she hadn’t felt up to making a big meal. Instead, she’d impulsively stopped into Trattoria Bella Rosa to order a takeaway meal that she knew her friends would love. 

As soon as she entered the restaurant she was greeted by her delivery man from Wednesday. He held the door open with a charming smile, “Welcome! You must meet my Nonna, she’ll be pleased to see you. She’s been talking constantly about the handsome and romantic young man who uses her spaghetti to woo his sweetheart.” He started to turn away, but paused and added, “I’m Luca, by the way. I don’t think I introduced myself the other day.”

“Thank you, Luca. I’m Hermione, and I would love to meet your Nonna.” She followed Luca as he led the way through the cozy restaurant. It was the type of place that made you feel welcome. It was divided into rooms as if it had once been a home instead of a place of business. Each room held a large brick fireplace and as many simple, wooden tables as would comfortably fit. Decorations were sparse and simple, yet the place was packed. The food was clearly the star and kept patrons returning for more of the delicious fare.

Hermione was led to a hallway and asked to wait for a moment while Luca pushed open a swinging door. The warmth and divine scents that wafted out told Hermione that he was going into the kitchen. A moment later, a tiny gray-haired woman rushed into the hallway. She greeted Hermione warmly, kissing her on each cheek as her grandson made the introductions.

With an appraising gaze, the lovely woman who had invited Hermione to call her Nonna nodded, “Yes, yes, yes. The two of you are perfect. I can see it. You will make beautiful babies.”

“I don’t even know who he is, Nonna. How can I possibly…”

Grinning as she was interrupted by a firm shake of the head, “No, you are perfect, you will see. You will come back and visit me when he woos you properly. The two of you will have dinner, a date.” 

The elderly woman smiled. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Hermione. Don’t forget, come back and see me. Ask for Nonna when you come. My staff knows that if someone is allowed to call me that it’s because I want to see them. Now, I must get back to my sauce. Luca will help you with whatever you need. He’s a good boy.”

Feeling as if she’d been caught up in a tiny, but powerful whirlwind, Hermione turned to Luca. “Do you have a takeaway menu? I need to feed a crowd tonight.”

Just a few hours later, she was setting everything up family style at her table. They typically had appetisers, or other snacks that they could eat while watching the film, but tonight they would have a real meal before they began. She really didn’t think that anyone would complain. 

Hermione knew she had probably gone overboard on the food; unable to decide between the family trays of chicken cannelloni and lasagne, she’d gotten both. When she’d worried that she was getting far too much for only eight people, she reminded herself that four of those people were Weasleys, and Angelina’s appetite had increased with her pregnancy. 

She was arranging the pans of pasta alongside crusty focaccia bread, bright garden salads, and bottles of the Italian red she’d picked up when her floo signaled that the first guest had arrived.

It was Ginny and Harry, who were immediately followed by Ron and Lavender. “What smells so amazing?” Ginny demanded to know, sniffing the air appreciatively.

Before Hermione could answer, George and Angelina stepped out of the emerald flames and joined the group. When no one followed, Hermione looked at them in confusion. “Where’s Fred? Isn’t he joining us too?” 

Please let him be coming. She did not want to be the only single person while the rest of them snuggled up to watch the film later. The sadness that she’d experienced the previous weekend had been extinguished by the lovely gesture from her secret admirer, even if she did doubt his existence. There hadn’t been anything else, not even a note since Wednesday, but it had broken her out of the strange melancholy.

George grinned broadly, greeting everyone before answering Hermione directly. “We had a late crowd in the shop. Fred offered to finish up while I showered. He knew that Angie was starving and he said that he didn’t want to be responsible for delaying his niece or nephew’s meal. He’d just come up to shower as we were leaving. He should be along shortly.”

“Before we were interrupted,” Ginny looked at George pointedly, “Hermione was about to tell us what smells so good.”

“Well, come into the kitchen and see for yourselves.”

Hermione led everyone to the table, explaining that she hadn’t wanted to cook after brewing all week, so she’d gotten takeaway from a little Italian restaurant nearby.

When Fred arrived a little while later, they were busily passing the food around the table. He took the only open seat, which, once again, happened to be next to Hermione. As he sat down, she couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled, even better than the food. Through the meal she found herself leaning toward him, drawn by his scent. Had he always smelled like that? And why hadn't she noticed?

All around the table, groans of pleasure rang out as the group started to eat. Around a large bite of lasagne, Ron asked, “‘Ermione, wher’d ooh et ths?” 

It was only through years of experience that everyone managed to understand precisely what he’d been asking. Rolling her eyes at Ron’s predictability, Hermione responded with a grin. “Oh, it’s this lovely little Italian place called Trattoria Bella Rosa…” she’d planned to tell them about Nonna, but a choking noise from her right, where Fred was seated, made her forget what she was saying.

Patting him on the back in concern, she asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he sputtered, glaring at George when his twin snorted with laughter. “Really,” he insisted, turning back to his food to prove it. But when Hermione snuck a glance a moment later, she saw that the tips of his ears were pink, which was strange. Fred Weasley didn’t embarrass easily, and certainly not from something as seemingly innocuous as that.

When they had all eaten their fill, Hermione stood to clear the table. “Does everyone want pudding now, or after the film? I got tiramisu from the restaurant.”

Unanimously, they decided that they were too stuffed to eat anything else at present. Hermione quickly set the dishes to wash themselves, and grabbed the cup that she’d prepared ahead of time with tiny strips of paper that held each person’s name. This was how they picked a film each time they met. They drew a name from the cup and that person got to pick. Once you had a turn, your name didn’t get added back until everyone had a night to choose. Last time, they’d made it through the final name so everyone was back in this round.

Holding the cup over her head, she mixed the tiny bits of paper with her fingers before selecting one. Unfolding it, she groaned, “Oh no!” She glanced around at the group knowing that there was a dejected expression on her face. Reading the slip of paper, she held it out for the others to see. “Harry,” she announced, flatly.

The man in question grinned broadly, producing a DVD from somewhere on his person and proudly held it aloft. “We’ll be watching, _Scream_.”

“It’s Christmas, you couldn’t have picked a nice classic holiday film? I was so looking forward to watching something nice tonight,” Hermione complained.

“Nope, sorry. You know the rules. I’ve been waiting for months to watch this one,” Harry shrugged, not looking sorry at all.

“You lot, go on and get comfy. I’m just going to put the food in the fridge, I’ll be in shortly.” She knew that she was being bratty, but she couldn’t help it. Hermione hated horror films. Even though she knew full well what was really out there and could certainly hold her own, the silly, scary films terrified her. She’d probably have nightmares.

By the time she finished putting the last of the food in her fridge and made it into the sitting room, every available seat she had was taken, which shouldn’t have fucking surprised her the way things seemed to be going that evening. 

The three couples had taken over her entire L- shaped sofa, and Fred was sprawled in her reading chair. She couldn’t blame him, it was fabulously comfortable. When she’d seen it in the shop, she hadn’t been able to resist. It was wide enough for her to curl up comfortably without being squashed, but the best part was that it had an attached leg rest, so it was basically a sofa with a chair back. 

Resigned, she approached Fred. “Would you pass me a couple of cushions and a blanket from that basket next to you, please?”

“Why?”

“There’s no space on the furniture. I’m just going to get comfortable on the floor.”

“Absolutely not. This amazing chair has more than enough room for both of us. Cuddle up, love,” he winked cheekily, “I won’t bite.”

She allowed herself to be pulled into the chair next to the wonderful smelling Weasley. “Pass me a blanket, please.” 

“Why do you need that? There’s a fire, and I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He waggled his eyebrows to emphasize the last.

Chewing on her lip, she admitted in a whisper, “It’s not that. I just hate scary films. I usually bury my head in the blanket when I don’t want to look.”

“Well, you won’t be needing it. I’ll get it for you if it makes you feel better, but I promise to protect you. See,” he demonstrated by wrapping his arm around her body and pulling her snugly against his side, “you can hide your face right here against my chest if you need to.” With her heart suddenly beating wildly, she let him maneuver her into the position that he was describing. Had his scent always been this distracting? This was definitely preferable to sitting alone on the floor, but her reaction was confusing the heck out of her.

The first frightening scene had her getting even closer, Fred’s arm tightening around her waist as he shifted his other hand, taking hers and lacing their fingers together. When she hid her face, burying her nose against his soft t-shirt, her senses were overwhelmed. She wanted nothing more than to lift her head and snog him senseless, or suck on the enticing pulse point on his neck. What on earth? Where were these thoughts coming from?

“You smell really good.” Her murmured words were only loud enough for him to hear, but as soon as they left her mouth, she felt as if she’d been shouting.

A smug smirk graced his lips as he looked down at her, meeting her hesitant gaze. “You think I smell good?”

“Yes, wonderful, actually. Is that a new cologne or something?

“Or something…” he responded, his attention seemingly on the telly again, but she noticed that his arms tightened a little more around her body. The hand that wasn’t holding hers slid up her back until it came to rest where he could play with the hairs at the nape of her neck.

When the film was over, Hermione reluctantly extracted herself from Fred’s arms, the loss of his touch making her feel immediately empty. Standing next to the chair, she surveyed the room. Angelina was asleep, leaning heavily against George. Lavender, who had been seated on the end of the sofa closest to where Fred and Hermione shared the chair, sent her a knowing smile and a tiny wink. 

“Who’s up for some of that tiramisu now?”

Everyone nodded except for George who gestured toward his sleeping wife. “I need to get her home and into bed.”

Hermione smiled. “Give me a second, I’ll box some for the two of you to take home.”

Once George and Angie were gone, Hermione returned to the kitchen telling everyone to stay put and she would bring the pudding to them. Lavender hopped up with an eager, “I’ll help you.”

As soon as they were alone, the blonde enthusiastically bombarded her with questions. “So, you and Fred? That’s so exciting. How did it happen? When did it happen?” 

“It was nothing. He just offered for me to sit with him instead of on the floor. Then, when I let him know that I don’t enjoy being scared out of my wits by those stupid horror films, he cuddled me up. It was just Fred being a friendly Weasley and taking care of me. I’m sure he thinks of me as another little sister or something. It wasn’t like what you’re thinking.”

Lavender stood there, hand on one hip, with lips pursed and eyebrows raised. Her posture clearly said that she wasn’t buying a word of what Hermione had to say. When her lips curved into a smug smirk, Hermione wanted to groan aloud. She didn’t have to wait long to find out what was on her friend’s mind. “What I didn’t hear you say in all of that is that you’re not interested in him. And who can blame you? Just look at him, he’s a prime specimen. Not that any of the Weasley men are lacking in the looks department, but he’s the total package, isn’t he?”

Without another word, she took half of the plates that were filled with the decadent confection and brought them back into the sitting room, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

As soon as everyone ate, Ron and Harry immediately turned to Lavender and Ginny, reminding them that they had work early the next day and should be going. Before Hermione really knew what was happening, she found herself completely alone with Fred.

He smiled at her. “What are your plans for the rest of the evening? You don’t have work tomorrow, and it’s still fairly early.”

“Um, well, I was just going to pop in an actual Christmas film, something that will take those awful images out of my head before I try to sleep.” She fiddled with the hem of her jumper nervously as she stood next to the floo where she’d wished everyone else a good night only moments before.

“Would you mind some company? My flat is a little lonely at night since George and Angie got their own place and moved out. We aren’t open tomorrow, but you know that Sunday is our normal day to be closed.” The pink tint creeping up his neck and onto his ears made her wonder to herself as it had at dinner. Why was he embarrassed? He had been rambling a bit, but she couldn’t work out why that would matter.

She desperately wanted to tell him to stay, but she was terrified of how she’d been feeling just being next to him all evening. But… she really did want him to stay, and there was no good reason to send him home to his empty flat. Smiling, she nodded, “I would love some company. Do you want anything else to eat? Some tea, perhaps?”

“Godric, no! I’m stuffed. Want some help clearing up before we start the film?”

“Thanks, but there’s no need. Since I didn’t cook tonight and I set the dishes to wash, it’s all done.” Why was she so nervous? She felt awkward when she asked, “Ready for me to start the film then?”

Grinning, he nodded and gestured for her to lead the way across the room. She set up the telly again as he sat down. When she had the film ready to go, she turned to find herself faced with a dilemma. Fred was once again seated in her reading chair where they’d been cozily cuddled together all evening. What she really wanted to do was snuggle into his side again, but was that what he wanted? Or did he expect her to take the sofa?

Erring on the side of caution, she made her way toward the bit of sofa that was closest to the chair. When he noticed where she was headed, Fred frowned in confusion. “I thought you would sit here with me again. Weren’t you comfortable earlier?”

“Yes,” she admitted, “I just didn’t know if you were, and I thought you might prefer to sit alone.”

“Definitely not. I was comfy too. Get over here!” When she got close enough, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her down so that she was practically on top of his lap. Laughing now, she no longer felt self-conscious; she was elated but confused. In the end, she decided to simply enjoy the moment without worrying about what was going on.

Although she’d planned to watch a sappy Christmas film, she decided to switch to something that Fred would enjoy as well. With him in mind, she’d gone with _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation._ Soon, lulled by the comfort of Fred’s arms, the vibrations of his chest when he laughed, and the familiar dialogue, Hermione drifted off to sleep.

She was only vaguely aware when Fred lifted her sleeping form and carried her to bed. When he tucked her in, placing a kiss on her forehead, and murmuring, “Sweet dreams, gorgeous,” she was in a kind of twilight sleep. When she woke the next morning, fully dressed in the leggings and jumper she’d worn the night before, she wondered how much of what she remembered was a dream, and what had actually happened.

  
  



	3. A Scentsational Wheeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I want to thank WrathofMacy for her beta work, and for the fantastic graphics that are included in the chapters.
> 
> I also want to say thank you to moonfairy13 for always being available for a chat or a Brit-picking question. Did you know that fancies are cake covered in poured fondant? I didn't. I thought they were some kind of candy, not cake. Here in Louisiana, where I'm from, we call them petit fours. 
> 
> I've neglected to say before now, but moonfairy also helped come up with several of the chapter titles! Thank you for that as well!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, or left kudos. Your support means so much to me!

Sunday and Monday were uneventful, and Hermione was left regretting the decision to lessen her workload until after the New Year. With the large order for St. Mungo’s taken care of, she only had a few smaller orders to fill in the next couple of weeks. This was supposed to be a perk of self-employment, and it usually was, but her planned days of shopping, baking, and decorating weren’t taking her mind off the situation with Fred and the secret admirer, if there was one. She still hadn’t heard anything else from whoever had sent her lunch.

When she awoke Tuesday morning, it was to the sound of an owl she didn’t recognize tapping on her bedroom window. After she let the little creature in, it dropped the parcel that it had carried onto her bed and immediately flew away again, not even bothering to wait for an owl treat.

She turned to examine the package and found a shimmery white box embossed with the insignia of a posh London bakery. It was tied with a blue satin ribbon, and there was an envelope wedged under the bow.

Immediately suspicious, but still curious, she went through the same series of spells that she’d used to check the food delivery nearly a week before. She ripped open the envelope, finding a card nearly identical to the one that had come with her Italian meal. Instead of a Christmas tree though, this one was printed with a silver snowman. Inside was a single line of text...

_Fancies for the gorgeous woman that I fancy._

_Your Christmas Admirer_

Still no real clue to the sender’s identity. She knew who she wanted her Christmas Admirer to be, and it did seem like something he would say. It was just corny enough, and there was that word again… gorgeous. Had she really heard him say that, or was it just a lovely dream? She hadn’t heard from Fred since that night, which wasn’t unusual, but she was feeling a tad bit insecure.

But then, there was still a chance that this was malicious; someone luring her into complacency by sending innocent gifts and waiting for her to let her guard down. Or it could be a crazed stalker. She’d been the recipient of all kinds of attention, negative and positive, immediately after the war. That was one of the biggest reasons she hadn’t gone to work for the ministry or done anything in the public eye of the wizarding world.

Harry… she hated to bother him, but it was time. Going to the floo, she threw in a pinch of powder, stuck her head in, and called out his address. She knew that he wasn’t supposed to be working today. “Harry, are you home?”

Suddenly he was in front of her. “Hermione? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay. It’s nothing urgent, but when you have the time I could use your help. I have a situation that I need you to check into.”

“Step back, I’m coming through.”

She stood, brushing the soot from her hair; after just a moment, Harry stepped out of her grate. “What’s going on?”

For some unknown reason, she felt apprehensive about telling her friend now that he was in front of her. She knew that she should be safe and have it checked out, just in case, but this didn’t feel like the stalkers, unwanted admirers, and criminals who had sent gifts in the past. This felt real… but maybe that was just her silly desire for it to be real. With the way her emotions had been out of control the past couple of weeks, could she really trust herself with this?

So, she told Harry everything. By the end of her explanation, he was grinning. Cryptically, he told her, “Give me half an hour. I have an idea that I want to check out. I’ll be back.” With a kiss on the cheek, he disapparated straight through her wards, the cheeky prat.

True to his word, he returned. Granted it was a little more than a half-hour later and she’d nearly worn a hole in her floor pacing in front of the floo during his absence, but he was back and that annoying grin was still firmly in place. “So, do you know who sent those things to me?”

His grin widened. “Yep.”

She waited for him to elaborate, an expectant expression on her face. Finally, she gestured for him to get on with it. “Aren’t you going to tell me who it is?”

“Nope, I can’t. I’ve taken a wizards’ oath.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression becoming a little defiant.

“You haven’t done the Unbreakable Vow have you?”

“Of course not, but you don’t truly expect me to tell. Trust me, what I’ve agreed to will make what happened to Marietta Edgecombe look like a minor rash. Nope, sorry, you’ll have to wait and see.”

Hermione sighed deeply. “What can you tell me?”

Placing a hand softly on her arm, he met her eyes, a genuine smile on his face now. “This could be really great for both of you. I can see it truly working out.” She started to ask if he could give her a little more to go on, but he just shook his head. “That’s all I can tell you, don’t bother asking anything else.”

***

Saturday morning, Hermione awoke excited for the day ahead. Angie, Lavender, and Ginny were all supposed to come over for brunch and a day of baking. They were going to make an assortment of Christmas pies, cakes, and biscuits. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Oliver promised to stop in after work, and whatever Percy and Oliver had planned for the day to act as taste testers. 

After dressing quickly, she made her way into the kitchen where, on her countertop, sat a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Demi-Sec. Just as she wondered where it came from and how it had arrived in her kitchen, she spotted the familiar-looking envelope under the bottle. Now that she knew that the gifts were from a safe source, she wasn’t concerned, but that didn’t exactly explain how it came to be inside her house. But… “Harry,” she muttered aloud, of course... he had direct access anytime and now that he knew and approved of the admirer, he was likely acting as a delivery boy.

Hefting the familiar bottle, she smiled tearfully. This had been her parents’ favourite champagne; her father had splurged on the sweet bubbly when he proposed to her mum. Hiding the ring in the bottom of her flute, he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife just as she took a sip. 

It was a story that she’d heard every year when her romantic parents shared a bottle on the anniversary of their engagement. It had been the first wine that she’d ever tasted, and it was still her favorite.

She knew that she’d shared that story with her closest friends. They’d all come over to comfort her when she discovered that the spell that she’d used to modify her parents’ memories couldn’t be safely reversed. That night, she had shared many happy memories that she had of her family and everyone listened, allowing her to cry and reminisce. There was only one single male who was present for that, but she didn't want to speculate too much. The disappointment would be awful if she was wrong.

Finally, she opened the card and couldn’t stop the hot tears that began to flow freely down her cheeks.

_Hermione,_

_I won’t tell you how I heard the story, because I’m not quite ready to give my identity away, but learning of your parents’ special tradition involving this particular champagne stuck with me. It’s been in the back of my mind for all of the years since I heard it. I’m not perfect, I know I’ll never be, but if you will let me, I can promise that I will love you like that._

_Your Christmas Admirer_

It was several minutes before she could stop the tears. That was exactly what she wanted. Someone who could give her the sort of love that was inspiring to others. She’d observed the same kinds of things in the couples at The Burrow over the years. With so many wonderful examples, how could she have ever settled for anything less? Now, all she had to do was hope that she felt the same when she learned her mystery man’s identity.

With the help of cold water, a glamour, and some cosmetics, Hermione was able to rid herself of the red puffy eyes left behind by the crying jag well before her friends showed up. She’d just finished making their meal when everyone arrived within minutes of the others. 

As they began to eat, Angie announced to the group at the table, “Fred and George need our help with a new product this evening. They’re going to bring it over when they close the shop.” At the sound of groans around the table, she laughed. “I promise that this one isn’t bad. I know what it is and I can attest that there will be no strange side effects, no blurting of secrets, nothing bad at all. You know how protective of me George has been since we found out that I’m pregnant,” at the answering nods of agreement, she continued, “well, this is so benign that I’ve already tested it.”

Hermione still felt apprehensive, but Angie’s declaration seemed to relax the others. However, as they began to bake, she managed to forget all about it. Hours later, they sat around the table, giggling and sipping tea as they sampled their creations. Everyone was covered in flour, frosting, and sprinkles, but they’d had a great time. 

It was nearly seven and the men were supposed to be arriving. Hermione spoke up, “I didn’t think about dinner. We haven’t eaten a real meal since eleven. I’m sure the guys will be hungry too.”

Lavender shook her head. “We don’t have to worry about it. I told Ron to make sure that he and Harry bring dinner for everyone when they show up.”

Ginny snorted. “It’ll be pizza or fish and chips if you didn’t tell them otherwise.”

Angie rubbed her belly. “Mmmm, either of those sound good to me. I hope they get here soon, I’m starving.”

A few minutes later, she got her wish when Harry and Ron arrived, bringing not only pizza and salads, but fish and chips as well. Harry looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, we couldn’t decide so we got both.”

Next to show up were Oliver and Percy, still wearing dress robes from whatever function they’d gone to that day. Because Angie was hungry, they didn’t wait until the twins arrived. They were nearly finished with the meal, and the men were beginning to sample some of the baked goods when George and Fred finally came through the floo.

Upon seeing Fred, Hermione’s tummy flipped. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was the one sending her the gifts. Could he be ready for a relationship like that? She really didn’t know.

As soon as everyone had eaten their fill, Fred and George stood and explained about the product that they were testing. It was a new unisex cologne. Other than promising that it wasn’t any kind of love or lust potion, or a joke product, they wouldn’t say exactly what it did.

They had everyone line up several feet apart. Fred approached Hermione. “I want you to do this part so that there’s no way that George or I can possibly tamper with anything. We’re going to go stand over there,” he pointed across the room, “and go last. Before Hermione sprays anyone with the scent, I want you to take turns sniffing each other. Then she’s going to go down the line and spray everyone, after which you’ll all go back and see if you notice a difference. Once that’s done, we’ll have you do the same with us.”

Hermione followed the instructions, feeling a little silly as she sniffed each of her friends in turn. She dutifully spritzed each of them and sniffed again. When she was done, she turned to Fred and George, “There was no difference at all. They all smelled exactly the same before and after.”

George grinned, “I want everyone else to see if they think that the scents are the same.”

Ron went first, starting with Harry, then moved to Ginny. “Blech, Gin, you smell awful.”

Ginny nodded. “You do too, Ron.” 

Ron continued down the row and announced that Percy also smelled horrible, with Harry and Oliver remaining the same, but when he got to Lavender, he buried his nose into her neck, “Wow, Lav, you smell amazing.”

“Oh, Ronnie, you do too!” She dropped her voice to a whisper, but it was loud enough that everyone could hear, “We need to go home now. I can’t wait to get my hands, and lips, on you, you smell so good.”

Hermione laughed along with the others as she shouted for Ron and Lavender to take their share of the baked goods. Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to box the treats as soon as they’d cooled. 

Results were similar with the others. The Weasleys complained that their siblings now stunk, but were eager to leave with their significant others. Soon, Hermione was left with Angie, George, and Fred. George asked her to repeat the process with them as Angie stood across the room with an unreadable expression. 

Hermione had a sinking suspicion that she was going to discover the source of the intoxicating scent that Fred wore on the night they spent cuddled together in her chair. Purposefully, she went to George first. She smelled him, sprayed him, and smelled him again — nothing. He smelled the same. 

Approaching Fred, she sniffed him. He smelled nice, better than the others even before the addition of the cologne. She moved her arm to spritz him, but stopped, needing answers first.  
“What is this, exactly?”

He smiled kindly. “Have you heard of muggles using pheromones in their perfumes, and colognes?”

She nodded.

“Then you know that the pheromones are supposed to increase attraction.” He paused, watching her intently, obviously waiting for her to understand before he continued. “Well, we’ve managed to isolate the pheromones, and change them so that they work with a person’s body chemistry in a way that only makes them more attractive to someone who already has feelings for them. It also repulses those who shouldn’t be attracted, as you saw with my siblings.”

Bravely, she stepped forward and sprayed him with the contents of the bottle. Before she moved any closer, Angie announced cheerfully, “We’re leaving too. We’ll see you two later.”

It was Fred who moved first, coming close enough to breathe in her scent and allowing her to do the same. Her senses were overwhelmed by his proximity. Soon, she found herself in his arms as he buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t more forthcoming, I… I… I just needed to know.”

What did he need to know? If she was reacting to the pheromones on him, or if he would react to her? She honestly didn't know and still didn’t know if her scent was truly affecting him as well. Needing to see his face, she lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

Their eyes locked for a moment before Fred’s lowered to briefly glance at her mouth. Before she could react, he leaned down, lightly pressing his lips to hers. Almost as soon as he made contact, he pulled away, his breath shaky, “Not like this, I can’t have you influenced by anything.”

His expressive eyes searched hers, seemingly beseeching her to understand, but she didn’t, not really. Was he feeling the effects of the pheromones and didn’t want to act on something he may regret? Or was it possible that he did have real feelings for her and he was just as afraid as she was to take the next step and admit those feelings? If that was the case, she could understand not wanting to have any doubts about the influence that the cologne could be having on both of them. A first kiss was special. It wasn’t something that you could do again. 

Stepping away, he reached out a hand, grabbing hers but holding her at arm's length “I have to go. Staying here like this isn’t a good idea. I’ll owl you tomorrow.” 

She nodded shakily, unable to trust her voice not to break. With one final apologetic look over his shoulder, he was gone. And for the second time that day, she was unable to hold back her tears. Sinking to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her knees and cried miserably. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a great weekend! I’ll be back with the next chapter on Monday the 7th! 🎄


	4. Friends who Cuddle

After a fitful night, Hermione awoke not expecting Fred to send an owl as he’d promised. She’d convinced herself during the night that he simply wasn’t interested, and that had been his reason for fleeing instead of kissing her when she’d clearly been willing. There seemed to be some attraction on his part, otherwise, the pheromones wouldn’t have affected him, but he was obviously not inclined to act on that attraction.

So, when she emerged from a long, indulgent shower, she was surprised to find Fred’s owl at her window. “Hello, Matilda,” she cooed, grinning as she did each time she thought about how the little creature had gotten her name. During Fred’s recovery after the war, she’d introduced him to a few of her favourite Muggle books. He’d immediately decided that Hermione would have been exactly like Matilda had she grown up with the Dursleys instead of Harry. 

Hermione had known just how much the stories meant to him when he purchased his owl, and the first delivery was to her. It was a note that simply said, ‘ _Hi, I’m Matilda.’_ He hadn’t even bothered to sign it, but, of course, she’d known who it was from.

After giving Matilda an owl treat and a dish of water, she tore open the note. 

_Hermione,_

_Good morning, my sweet. I hope you slept well. Admittedly, I did not, but the fault lies only with me._

_I’m writing, as promised, but also because I was hoping that I could talk you into having lunch with me, and then doing a little Christmas shopping in the muggle world. I don’t have a clue what to get dad this year, and I hoped you’d be willing to help. If you say yes, I’ll be there at noon. Send your response back with Matilda._

_Fred xx_

  
  
Of course, she would say yes. There wasn’t any way that she could justify saying no, and honestly, she didn’t want to. Scrawling her reply, she sent it off; seeing that it was already half-past ten she decided that she would go make a pot of tea before getting dressed. She wouldn’t bother with breakfast since they would be getting lunch so soon.

After drinking her tea, she returned to her bedroom to get ready. She dressed with much more care than she typically would when just out for the day with a friend. Was that what this was though? Did she want it to be just an outing with a friend? If she was being completely honest with herself, she wanted it to be more. Fred’s words from the first Sunday of December when she sat next to him at The Burrow came back to her then. He’d offered to take her on a date. Could he have been serious?

With a sigh, she collapsed onto her bed. Everything was so confusing. She was attracted to Fred, there was no denying it. Closing her eyes, she allowed the real fear to surface… What if Fred wasn’t her secret admirer? Could his behaviour toward her be a coincidence? 

Checking the clock on her bedside table, she saw that it was nearly time for Fred to arrive. She made a decision then. Today she would have fun with Fred; enjoy whatever they did, and try not to analyze every little thing. If she spent her time dissecting each interaction, she would miss out on the pleasure of simply being with him, and whatever this was, for however long it lasted, she wanted to enjoy it all.

At precisely noon, Fred stepped through her floo. He pulled her into a hug, completely wrapping her in his arms. Hermione melted into him and it felt amazing. She smiled up at him. “You give the very best hugs.”

He beamed down at her. “Well, how do I smell today? Back to normal?” 

With a laugh, she nodded. “Back to normal, which is nice. You do typically smell really good.” She stepped out of his arms. “Let me grab my bag and coat, and then I’m ready to go if you are. I haven’t had breakfast so I’m starving.”

A moment later, she returned and they exited through her front door, walking out into the muggle world. Suddenly, Hermione was struck with a thought: How would Fred react if she suggested Trattoria Bella Rosa for lunch? It was nearby, but honestly, if they wanted to eat quickly, that wouldn’t be the place to go. At noon, on a Sunday, it was sure to be jam-packed. Regardless, she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t test him like that.

“You’re lost in thought, where did you go?” Fred nudged her playfully before taking her hand, and lacing his fingers through hers as if that was the most natural thing in the world. 

Grinning at him, while trying to calm her fluttering heart, she told him truthfully, “I was just thinking about where we could go for lunch that won’t be packed at noon on a Sunday. Do you fancy anything in particular?”

They continued their stroll along the pavement as he considered her question, “Whatever will be quick is fine with me because I know you’re hungry.” After a moment of hesitation, he admitted, “If we find a convenient place, I would love some Chinese food. Most other muggle foods have made their way into Diagon Alley in the past couple of years, but not Chinese, and I’ve been wanting it for a few days.”

“I know just the place! It’s one of my favourites actually, but it’s nothing fancy, so the posh Sunday crowd won’t bother.” She tugged on his hand, guiding him to turn down a side street. “Come on, I think you’re going to love it.”

Ten minutes later, they were seated in the cozy booth of a tiny Chinese restaurant. Hermione typically got takeaway from there, as did most patrons, but there was a small seating area, and she was excited to be there with Fred.

As they perused the menu, she decided that she wanted a cup of their wonderful hot and sour soup to start. It was the perfect thing on a cold day. Realising that she didn’t have a strong opinion on the main course, she asked Fred what he wanted. 

“I really like those little pancake things with the pork. You know, the ones with the sauce and spring onions,” his eyes grew wide as he animatedly described what he was talking about. “Also, noodles with the prawns, and those crispy roll thingies.” 

“Well, I was going to have some soup to start, but what you’re wanting sounds perfect. Want to get all of it and share? It will be more than enough to feed us both.”

He nodded eagerly. When their waitress approached, Hermione gave their order, “Two cups of hot and sour soup, chicken spring rolls, moo shoo pork, and prawn lo mein.”

It wasn’t long before they were enjoying their delicious meal. As they ate, they discussed what to get Arthur for Christmas. He was finally going to retire after the New Year and Fred wanted something that would keep his dad busy. Something that he could tinker with that would keep him from constantly watching the television that they’d all gone together to purchase him two years prior when Hermione, working with Dean and Seamus, had finally figured out how to make muggle electronics compatible with magical homes. 

An idea came to Hermione, and she hoped that Fred would think that it was as perfect as she did. “Your dad is still interested in muggle automobiles, planes, and things like that, yes?”

Fred nodded. “He is. Can you think of something like that to get him that mum won’t hate? She’d murder me in my sleep if I got him an entire lorry or something like that.”

Hermione laughed, thinking of the Ford Anglia. “What I'm thinking will keep him busy, entertained, and your mum won’t find it objectionable. There are shops that sell kits to build and paint your own replicas of all of the different modes of muggle transportation. They range in difficulty levels from ones that children can do, to more complex models that take adults loads of time to complete. Most of them are very realistic though, so it’s also a way for him to learn more about muggle things.”

Reaching across the table, Fred grabbed her hand. “You’re brilliant! He would love that. Can we go? Is there a shop like that nearby?”

“Well, there is one model shop that’s really well known, but it’s actually closer to Diagon Alley than here; I used to go with my dad sometimes, he enjoyed building models. We could go back to my house and floo over to the Leaky and then go from there.”

With a smile, Fred squeezed her hand gently. “I’m really happy that you came with me today.”

Hermione felt as if she would float away from the joy that simple statement made her feel. “I’m really happy that you asked me.”

A short while later, they returned to Hermione’s house carrying their leftovers. After a stop to put them in the fridge, they flooed over to the Leaky Cauldron. Waving hello as they passed through, they stepped out onto the street and into Muggle London.

Several hours after that, they made their way back up the pavement toward the Leaky Cauldron. Fred was holding her hand again, and Hermione was thrilled. They’d successfully shopped for Arthur, Fred having purchased him ten different model vehicles to build, a mixture of aeroplanes, motorcycles, and cars. Hermione had also bought him a couple of jigsaw puzzles, as well as the various paints, brushes, glue, and other tools and supplies that he would need to build and complete his vehicles.

Although they’d only been planning to shop for Arthur, Hermione hadn’t been able to resist when they’d found a shop selling luxurious yarns. She’d pulled Fred inside where they’d both purchased several skeins of top quality yarn and some books featuring knitting patterns to give to Molly.

All in all, it had been a successful afternoon and Hermione really wasn’t ready for her time with Fred to be over. If only she could figure out how to broach the subject. And then inspiration struck, and she smiled to herself. “Would you like some help wrapping the gifts for your parents?” 

Fred grinned. “That would be brilliant, I’m shite at wrapping!”

“Well, if you don’t have plans now, we could head back to my house and get these wrapped. After that, you’re welcome to stay and help me eat our lunch leftovers.”

“Merlin, yes! I was hoping that you would suggest that. Lunch was delicious and I was just thinking that I wanted more of it. Honestly, I’m hungry again already.”

Laughing, she bumped him with her hip. “Of course you are.”

As they passed through the Leaky, Hermione saw speculative looks on a few familiar faces. She looked down at their joined hands and wondered if Fred would be bothered by that kind of attention. Glancing up at him, she saw him wave at a table filled with men who looked vaguely familiar and decided that either he hadn’t considered the ramifications or he didn't care. Regardless, there was nothing that they could do now, they’d already been spotted.

Instead of stopping at the floo as she’d expected, Fred motioned toward the door that led to the entrance of Diagon Alley. “Do you mind if we stop into my flat for a few minutes? I want to grab the rest of mum’s presents. If you’re offering to help me wrap, I want to take full advantage!” He grinned, nudging her side playfully.

“Of course we can stop by your flat, I don’t have any plans for this evening.” Hermione cringed internally at how pathetic that sounded. Refusing to meet Fred’s eyes, she missed the smile that lit his face.

“Great! I don’t have plans either. Does that mean you would be up to have me stick around and impose again tonight? I would love to watch another Christmas film with you.”

Hermione’s heart flipped and she was unable to contain the grin that suddenly spread across her face. “Yes, of course, you can stay and watch a film. I’d really like that.”

After a short stop at Fred’s flat, they flooed over to Hermione’s house. When they arrived, she turned to Fred and asked, “Dinner or wrapping first? You said earlier that you’re starving.”

“I am,” Fred rubbed his tummy dramatically to emphasise his hunger, “but, I think it’s smarter to wait and wrap first. If I indulge in as much of those leftovers as I’m planning to, I’ll be far too stuffed to do anything remotely physical. All I’m going to want to do is get into your splendid chair and watch a film with you.” 

“Alright, I’ll go grab my wrapping supplies. We’ll set up at the dining table.” Quickly exiting the room, Hermione thought to herself that she truly hoped that Fred intended to share her chair again. It was lovely being cuddled in his arms.

When she returned, he was already sitting at the table with his bag of gifts on the floor next to him. “Show me what you need to wrap,” she instructed.

With a sheepish expression, Fred started removing package after package. “I’m sorry, but I’m truly shite at wrapping. I brought over everything hoping that you would take pity on me and give me a hand with all of this.”

Huffing out a laugh, she nodded. “You’re lucky that I actually enjoy wrapping presents.” 

They passed the next hour pleasantly, getting all of the gifts wrapped for the Weasleys. It was during the wrapping that a thought made Hermione’s heart sink. She hadn’t bought anything for Fred yet. There was still time, and there were several others on her list that she needed to shop for, but what on earth was she supposed to get for the man sitting next to her?

It would have to be something special. They were spending far too much time together for her to get him a generic gift, not that she usually bought anyone generic gifts, but his needed to be extra special this year. Something that made it clear that she’d put thought into it. 

That was another thing, how special could she make it without them having a defined relationship? What were they now anyway? Friends who cuddle? Not exactly a title that warranted a sentimental present. And she couldn’t read into things because that would be awkward if she misinterpreted. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Fred who stood and pulled her out of her chair and into an enthusiastic little spin around the room when he saw her tie the bow on his last gift. She hung on for dear life, giggling helplessly as her feet left the ground.

When he put her down again, he placed a sweet kiss on her cheek, lingering just a second longer than might be considered appropriate for mere friends. Hermione’s breath hitched and she struggled to keep her composure when he wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Thank you. Honestly, no one will believe for a second that I wrapped these myself, but you saved me so much time and effort. Mine would’ve been a mess and taken me three times as long.”

“Well, you’re very welcome, and I really didn’t mind at all. If you have anything else that you need help wrapping before Christmas, you’re more than welcome to bring it over.” She smiled up at him, and, needing an opportunity to catch her breath and get out of his arms before she did something stupid like kiss him, she asked, “Now, are you ready for dinner?”

After they ate and cleaned up the mess, they went into the sitting room to start the DVD. Hermione had decided to go with another old favorite that she suspected Fred would enjoy, _Home Alone_. As she turned to sit down, a huge yawn slipped out. 

Fred grinned. “It’s been a long day and you’re obviously tired. Why don’t you go and change into pyjamas in case you fall asleep again.”

She chewed on her lip, contemplating the suggestion. “Are you sure that you don’t mind? You don’t think it’s rude for me to fall asleep on you?”

“No! It’s… How do I explain?” Fred stared off into space for a second, “We’ve been through a war.”

Nodding, she watched him intently, not sure where he was going with this.

“I know that you had to force yourself to stay awake for hours on end when you were in dangerous situations, as did I. As a result, we don’t trust easily. Knowing that you trust me so completely, enough to allow yourself to fully relax and drift off to sleep without fighting it... Well, that’s really flattering. It makes me feel good to know that you’re that comfortable with me.”

Fred’s face had gone a bit pink, but gods, did she understand what he was saying. She didn't trust herself to speak at the moment, knowing that her heart felt so very full. If she tried to say something she wasn’t sure if she would simply grin until her cheeks hurt, or burst into tears from the tenderness of his words. Offering him a huge smile, she nodded and fled the room.

Once again composed, and dressed in comfy pajamas, she returned a few minutes later. She grabbed the remote and crossed to where Fred was sprawled in her chair, grinning at her. Without hesitation, she crawled in next to him and cuddled into his warmth.

The next morning, she awoke feeling groggy and a little disoriented. Unlike the last time, she hadn’t stirred at all when Fred carried her to bed and she had no memory of how she’d gotten there. Sighing, she stretched, and smiled when she spotted the note on her bedside table.

Hermione, 

You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to disturb you last night. I had a wonderful time with you, thanks for everything! Owl me or stop by the shop. We’ll be busy all week so I may not see you again until Christmas Eve unless you do come by.

Fred xx

  
  


Wearing a giant, goofy grin, she threw on her dressing gown and walked toward the kitchen to make her morning tea. She had to think about Fred's gift and finish her other shopping; today was already the twentieth of December and there wasn’t much time left. Entering her kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks. There on her counter was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips in a crystal vase. Her heart pounded when she saw the card propped against the vase.

Tearing the envelope and opening the card, she read:

_Gryffindors wear red_

_Ravenclaws wear blue_

_All I want for Christmas this year, my love, is a chance with you_

Her knowledge of floriography was limited, but red tulips, she did know. Had the sender intended that message? Could he truly feel that strongly for her? True love was a bold statement. And how had they gotten there? Could Fred have left them last night? Had Harry brought them this morning?

Absently, she closed the card and gasped aloud when she saw the front, which she hadn’t paid attention to before. Like the others, it was a simple white card with a silver foil accent. The decoration on this one, however, was a stack of beautifully wrapped Christmas presents. Was that a coincidence, or was Fred her secret admirer and had finally left her a clue? There was no way for her to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos! I truly appreciate the support! 🎄❤️🎄
> 
> Thanks again to my awesome beta, WrathofMacy!


	5. A New Chapter

Hermione needed to process everything. She made a pot of tea with some toast and took it all into the sitting room where she curled up in her reading chair. Immediately, she realised that the chair was a mistake. It smelled like Fred and she wanted to sink down and daydream about how it felt to be held in his arms, but she needed to think.

Sitting up straight, she turned her attention to her breakfast and forced herself to focus. Fred first, she decided. Today, she would try to come up with a present for him. She had plans to shop with Angie, Lavender, and Ginny the following day, but she didn't want to shop for Fred with them. They would notice if she was paying particular attention to selecting his gift. She also still needed presents for the three of them, and she wanted to get something for Angie and George’s baby for the couple to unwrap at Christmas. Those items all needed to be purchased without prying eyes, so she would certainly hit the shops on her own later.

That would also solve the problem of wanting to stop by and see Fred at WWW. She didn’t want to seem overly eager, but she also didn’t want to wait for Christmas to see him again. As soon as she finished eating, she would send him an owl letting him know that she would be out shopping with the girls tomorrow and promise to stop in with or without the group after.

Now she just needed a brilliant gift idea for the man in question. It needed to be special enough to convey how she was feeling about him, nice enough that it would make her feel good to give it to him if he did turn out to be her secret admirer, and safe enough that no one present at the Weasely’s house on Christmas would wonder why Hermione gave it to Fred. No problem, she thought sarcastically; that should be a fucking piece of cake.

Think, she ordered herself. There had to be something that she shared with Fred that only the two of them would really understand. Yes, that was it! The memory was special enough to him that he’d named his owl from one of the stories after all. During Fred’s recovery, she’d spent hours at his bedside, first reading to him, then reading with him, and finally leaving stacks of books to entertain him when she couldn’t be there. He’d especially enjoyed the muggle books with magical themes, but his absolute favorites were Matilda, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. He’d always said that was because Matilda reminded him of Hermione and he fancied himself to be Willy Wonka.

A plan slowly began to take shape. Smiling to herself, she quickly finished her simple breakfast before sending off a quick note to Fred and dressing for the day. 

Leaving her house a short while later, she headed out in the direction of a nearby shopping centre that she hadn’t yet explored, but she knew that it had a book shop, a baby boutique, and a jewellery shop. 

When she arrived at the shopping centre, she paused for a moment, looking around and taking in the festive atmosphere. In addition to the normal shops, there were also stalls set up outdoors selling seasonal items. She was close enough to read the signs that boasted mulled wine, and handmade ornaments. Hopeful now that she’d come to the right place, she excitedly began to wander in and out of the shops.

After nearly half an hour of exploring, Hermione came to a boutique that had all sorts of accessories. There were handbags, scarves, and costume jewellery in every colour. Deciding that this would be the place to find items for all of the ladies still on her list, she began to decide on a shade that would compliment each one. In the end, she found a pair of chandelier earrings, and a handbag for each of the girls: a deep forest green for Ginny, aubergine for Lavender, red for Angelina, and royal blue for Fleur. She also found a tiny, pale pink handbag for Victoire, and she couldn’t resist a pair of gorgeous silver and black earrings for herself. As she waited in the queue to pay for the pile of gifts, she spotted a lovely scarf that she knew Molly would adore. Although she’d already gotten something for the Weasley matriarch, she added it to her stack without hesitation.

Her next stop was a posh baby boutique; everything in the place was as overpriced as it was adorable. Since George and Angie had decided not to find out the sex of the baby, she was left with neutral options. Overwhelmed by all of the possibilities, she ended up telling the lovely shopkeeper what she was looking for and, with the woman’s help, she picked out a soft baby bath towel set that was covered in giraffes, a tiny book featuring zoo animals that had different textures for the baby to touch, and a giraffe teething toy made of natural rubber that was called, “Sophie the Giraffe.”

Finally, she found a bookshop. As she approached, the name caught her eye: “A New Chapter.” She thought to herself, what a great name for a bookshop. Reading on, she saw that it specialised in unique and rare books. Hopefully, that wouldn’t put anything she found totally out of her price range. Deciding that she should ask for help as she had something specific in mind, she went straight for the counter. If she started browsing, she would never finish her shopping.

Making her way over to where a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties stood ringing up the purchases for an older woman, she waited until the transaction was finished, then she smiled at the clerk. He returned her smile and said, “Hello, is there anything I can help you with today?”

“I hope so, I’m looking for Ronald Dahl books, specifically _Matilda_ , and _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_. Do you have those?”

His smile widened. “I do actually. I haven’t even put them into the inventory yet. Hold on one moment.” Turning to his left, he called out, “Anne, will you come out here?” When a young woman made her way to the counter, he instructed, “Watch the counter for a few minutes please, this lady is looking for some of the books that I just got in yesterday.” Anne nodded, and the man beckoned Hermione to follow.

He led her through an open doorway into another room. This area had some books that were already shelved, and more that were in cartons stacked against the wall. There was also a large table that held even more volumes. Hermione inhaled deeply; the scent of old books always made her happy.

They came to a stop in front of the table where the shopkeeper rummaged around and extracted two books, which he then held out to her. She gasped when she saw that he had copies of _Matilda_ and _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ , and both were in wonderful condition. 

Smiling, Hermione accepted the books. Her heart dropped into her stomach when she opened the front covers and discovered that they were both first editions that had been signed by the author. Resigned, she handed the books back. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid that these are a bit out of my price range.” She didn’t know how much they would cost, but signed first editions had to be thousands of pounds.

The kind-looking shopkeeper cocked his head to the side, clearly studying her. “Tell me why you want these specific books.”

Hermione smiled softly and explained, “I’m looking for a meaningful Christmas gift for a good friend. He was badly injured six years ago, and during his recovery I would go and read my favourite books to him. These were the ones that he liked best because he said that Matilda reminded him of me, and he saw himself in Willy Wonka.”

“Willy Wonka, really? That’s an interesting character to relate to. Your friend must be a fascinating person.”

“Oh, he certainly is. He’s a bit of an inventor himself, and he and his brother run a shop where they sell their creations.”

“A local shop? What’s his name? What do they sell?”

Crap! Well, she could tell a partial truth. She really needed to be more careful. “It’s in another part of England, not near here at all. They sell joke products, and his name is Fred Weasley.”

“Blimey, you’re Hermione Granger, aren’t you? I thought you were, but I couldn't be sure.”

Immediately on edge, Hermione’s hand automatically went to the pocket where her wand was stored. “How do you know who I am?” she demanded, more harshly than she intended.

“Please, Ms. Granger, I mean you no harm. I shouldn’t have blurted that out, and I’m really sorry that I startled you. You’re just a bit of a hero. I’m a muggle-born as well, you see. My family and I went into hiding before everything got really awful during the war.” He sighed, “Would you join me for a cup of tea? I would love to tell you my story.”

Hermione took a deep breath. She truly didn't feel threatened, but even now, years after the war had ended, she still had to force herself not to second guess everyone’s motives. “I’d like that, thanks. What’s your name?”

“I’m sorry, I should have already introduced myself. I’m David Wilson, but please just call me David. I was a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts.” He gestured toward a doorway, “We have a little kitchen for the staff through here.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, David, and you must call me Hermione now. I’m really sorry about overreacting. It’s a difficult habit to break.” She followed him through the door and took a seat at the small table that David indicated as he walked over to a counter where an electric kettle sat.

Looking over his shoulder, David asked apologetically, “We only have tea bags here I’m afraid. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine with me, thanks!” She watched as he busied himself with the tea, then asked, “Do you think anyone would notice if I shrank some of my purchases? I didn’t attempt it earlier, but it would be nice to not have so many large bags.”

Smiling, he shook his head, “No one will pay attention to how many bags you came in with. Go ahead.”

Pulling her wand from her pocket, she shrunk everything and consolidated it all into a single bag. By the time she was done, David was placing a cup of tea in front of her, then retrieving milk and sugar and returning to the table. Taking the seat across from her, he began to speak. “My wife, Lisa, and I started hearing rumors of You-know-who’s return during the summer of ninety-five. We saw what The Prophet was printing, but the rumors combined with all of the crazy things that we noticed in both the muggle and magical worlds made us nervous. We knew that muggle-born witches and wizards would be targeted first.”

He took a moment then, adding milk and sugar to his tea before he continued. “After much discussion, we decided that our family would be safer in the muggle world. Our oldest had only just turned two and we’d recently discovered that my wife was expecting our second. We had far too much at stake.”

Sighing, he sipped his tea. Hermione wasn’t certain that he was done, but she wanted to interject nonetheless. “You did the right thing.”

David nodded. “Yes, we know that, but it was still a difficult decision to make. Thankfully, we already had an account with a muggle bank. So we didn’t have to draw attention by withdrawing funds from Gringotts. Instead, we emptied and closed our account with the muggle bank and magically altered paperwork in order to get new licenses with fake names. Then, we quietly moved to Ireland and started over there with our alternate identities. While we were there, we kept our ear to the ground and lived a simple life. I worked in a bookshop and found that I enjoyed it very much. So, when the war was truly over and it was safe for us to return, we made the decision to continue living in the muggle world, and I opened this shop.”

“It’s lovely here; I adore the place, and I can completely understand why you would choose to live in the muggle world. I do as well,” Hermione admitted. 

Looking her straight in the eyes, David told her, “I needed you to hear my story so that you could understand how much you’ve done for my family. It’s because of your sacrifice that my eleven-year-old was able to start at Hogwarts this year, and I was able to send her off knowing that she would be safe and happy there. I never...” he faltered and took a deep breath before continuing, “I never thought that I would have the opportunity to thank you, but you’re here in front of me. For that reason, I would very much like to gift these books to you.” 

He quickly held up one finger, sensing her resistance, and his eyes pleaded with her to hear him out. Sighing, she gave him a slight nod before he continued. “I know that you plan to give them as a Christmas present to Mr. Weasley, but from what you’ve said, they are special to both of you. It’s the only way that I know to show my appreciation to you, to all of you really, but you especially. You not only helped save our world, but you took away the stigma of being a muggle-born.”

Hermione generally hated the attention that she received because of her fame, but this felt different. It didn’t feel like hero worship or some such shite, it felt like true gratitude. She knew that she would be back and had plans to spend loads of money in this shop in the future, but still, she didn’t feel right about taking what she knew to be very expensive books outright.

After contemplating the situation, Hermione grinned. “I have a suggestion if you’re open to hearing it…”

Half an hour later, she exited the book shop in possession of the two volumes, and with plans to have dinner with David and his family. She’d accepted the books only on the condition that she at least pay as much as David had when he purchased them. He’d finally agreed after trying to convince her to take them outright, but she hadn’t felt comfortable with that. 

Stepping out onto the pavement, she surveyed what was now an extremely crowded shopping centre. In the time that she’d been inside David’s shop, the shoppers had turned up in droves. She still had gifts to buy, but anything else could be purchased when she went out with the girls tomorrow. Feeling too claustrophobic to walk through the horde of people, she found a quiet alleyway and apparated home.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my wonderful beta, WrathofMacy. 🥰
> 
> And as always, thanks to moonfairy13 who is always there for whatever I may need —cheerleader, Brit-picker, title creator, writing helper, or just a friendly chat!🎄
> 
> Don’t forget to check out the other stories in the Fremione Fanatics’ Yule 2020 fest!  
> 🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄


	6. The Cat's Out of the (Shopping) Bag

By lunchtime the following day, Hermione was exhausted. She’d finished her own shopping and was being dragged around the shops by her overly enthusiastic friends. Even Angie, in her late pregnancy, was outpacing her. After convincing them that she was famished and would go home if they didn’t stop for lunch, they’d acquiesced and found a small cafe where they discussed what was still left on their lists as they shared soups and salads.

After lunch, they stopped at a men’s clothing shop. Hermione hadn’t intended to buy anything else, but a jumper caught her eye. It was the precise pattern and colours as the one that Clark Griswold wore in _National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation_. Fred’s gift was already wrapped and waiting under her tree, but she had to get this for him too; there was no way she would be leaving this shop without it.

Angie waddled over to her with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. “I thought you said that you were finished shopping. Who’s that for then?” 

Hermione felt her cheeks growing warm as she took in the other woman’s expression. It was clear that she knew very well who the recipient of the jumper would be. As she watched, Angie’s lips twitched. This was precisely why she hadn’t wanted to shop for Fred today. But it couldn’t be helped, she was caught now.

“Fine, it’s for Fred, as you’ve clearly surmised. You can stop with the smug attitude now.”

Grinning, Angie ran a hand down the arm of the jumper. “Ooh, it’s soft. But what’s the story behind it? There are dozens of jumpers in here, but you went straight for this one.”

Damn the observant witch! “Um, well, it’s just that it’s identical to the jumper that one of the characters wore in a Christmas film that we watched. Fred really enjoyed it and I thought he may get a kick out of the jumper.”

“When did the two of you watch that one?” Eyebrows raised, she watched Hermione expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Trying to come up with a way to give a non-answer, but failing, Hermione admitted, “It was the night that I had everyone over and we watched _Scream_. I hate horror films, so I’d planned to watch something happy after everyone went home, and Fred ended up sticking around.”

“Oh, he just _happened_ to stick around, did he?”

Hermione was desperate now, she did not want to continue this conversation. Spotting her way out, she pointed, “Look, Gin and Lavender are getting into the queue. I should go and pay for this.”

Angie laughed out loud and called after her, “Alright, you’re off the hook for now, but we’ll be continuing this later... I need details!”

***

She managed to avoid being alone with Angie for the rest of the afternoon, but when Ginny announced that she needed to head over to Diagon Alley to make a final stop at WWW, the pregnant witch shot her a knowing look when she didn’t beg off and head home like Lavender had. As much as Hermione wanted to avoid Angie’s speculation, she’d promised Fred that she would stop by, and she wasn’t going to break a promise just to avoid the discomfort she was feeling.

Ginny suggested that they find somewhere that they could apparate, but Angie stopped her. “Wait, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving. It’s getting late, and it’s only an hour until Fred and George will be closing up for the night. They’ll have made sure that their employees had a proper dinner break, but neither of them will have eaten yet.” 

At their nods of agreement, she continued, “Ever since we had that Italian meal at your place, Hermione, I’ve been craving it. Please say that we can go there to pick up takeaway. Is it close enough that we can just head back to your place and floo over to WWW once we have the food?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, it’s not far from my house at all, and it’s an easy walk. But it’s quite far from where we are now. We should apparate to my place anyway.”

A short while later, the three witches entered Trattoria Bella Rosa. Looking around, Hermione was relieved not to see Nonna or Luca; she really didn’t want them to say anything that she would need to explain.

Once they placed their order, they sat at the bar while they waited. Hermione and Ginny each had a bellini while Angie opted for a ginger ale. As they sipped and chatted, Hermione relaxed even more. They finished their drinks, accepted the bags of food, and were nearly to the door when a masculine voice called out, “Hermione?”

Forcing a smile, she turned and replied, “Hello, Luca. We just stopped in to pick up takeaway. We’ve been out shopping today.” Unable to forgo manners, even if she didn’t want to encourage conversation, she gestured toward her companions. “Luca, these are my friends, Angie and Ginny. Girls, this is Luca, he’s the owner’s grandson.”

Luca smiled toward Angie and Ginny. “Ladies, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Then, turning back to her, he asked, “So, have you learned the identity of your secret admirer? What else has he sent to you?”

In her periphery, she saw that Ginny’s mouth had fallen open, and Angie was grinning widely. Thank Merlin, they kept their mouths shut for the first time in their lives. She wondered if they’d actually been shocked into silence.

“Unfortunately, Luca, you and Nonna, and one of my other friends are the only people who definitely know the identity of the man who’s been sending me those gifts. And, to answer your question, I’ve received a box of delicious fancies, a bottle of champagne, and a bouquet of flowers since the lunch that you delivered.”

“What kind of champagne?” Luca queried, his dark brows raised in interest.

Hermione sighed, answering this would make her friends even more suspicious; they knew the story after all. “Veuve Clicquot Demi-Sec.”

“Good man, he has good taste. Well, he _obviously_ has good taste,” he winked at Hermione. “But not all men my age have a proper appreciation for good wine.”

After they bid Luca goodnight and left the restaurant, Hermione demanded, “Not a word. I’ll tell you everything when we get to my house.”

The walk back was utterly silent after her statement, and Hermione’s mind raced without anything to distract her. Did either of them know? She wished she’d been able to really see their expressions when Luca had blabbed. Now, they had time to modulate their reaction, and plan what to say.

As soon as she closed and locked the front door of her home, Ginny rounded on her, firing off questions in rapid succession. “What’s this about a secret admirer? Why haven’t you said anything? How long has this been going on?”

Gesturing for them to wait, Hermione placed the food on the console table in her entryway and waved her wand over the bag, placing a stasis charm on the food. She knew that this was very likely going to take a while and she didn’t want it to get cold.

Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself; she still hadn’t worked out the best way to tell her friends about the secret admirer. Contemplating her options for a moment, she decided to simply show them instead of trying to explain. “Give me a second.” Turning, she walked into her bedroom and retrieved all of the cards. 

When she returned, she beckoned, “Let’s take these into the kitchen. Everything else is in there.”

Entering the kitchen, Hermione groaned. She stopped, frozen in place just inside the doorway. Could this evening possibly get any worse? Sitting on her counter was a beautifully wrapped Christmas gift. The creamy white paper was covered in iridescent snowflakes and tied with a length of the same blue ribbon that had adorned the bakery box that the fancies had come in.

Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to her friends, and spoke through gritted teeth. “Well, I suppose you’ll get to see firsthand.”

Ginny and Angie began to speak at once and then stopped. Angie motioned for Ginny to go ahead. “You mean this wasn’t here before?” Hermione shook her head, and the red-haired witch’s eyes grew round. “How are they getting in? Are you certain that you’re safe? Maybe…”

Hermione cut her off, “Relax Gin, Harry knows. In fact, I suspect that he’s acting as the delivery boy.”

With narrowed eyes, Ginny asked slowly, “What do you mean ‘he knows?’”

Laughing to herself about the hell that Harry was sure to catch over not telling his wife, Hermione explained, “When I got the second package, I called him over to check to make sure that this wasn’t a crazy stalker or something. He told me that he might have an idea of who it could be. He apparated out, straight through my wards actually, and then came back a little later saying that everything was completely fine, and that I had nothing to worry about.”

The smirk on Angie’s face made Hermione slightly uncomfortable. So when she spoke, Hermione feared what was about to come out of her mouth. “How long was he gone? Enough time to have gotten it right on the first try, or did he have time to go multiple places?”

Relieved, Hermione shrugged, “Well, he was gone for just over half an hour. I suppose he could have visited more than one location in that length of time, but he wouldn’t tell me anything, so I can’t be sure.”

Ginny tossed her hair confidently. “I’ll be getting some answers from Harry Potter. He’s going to be sorry that he didn’t tell me in the first place.”

Hermione shook her head. “Sorry, Gin, but I don’t think you will. He took a wizard’s oath.”

With narrowed eyes, Ginny remarked, “Well, he hasn’t taken a bloody unbreakable vow, has he?”

“That’s exactly what I said, but it didn’t make a difference. He said that what he agreed to would make the curse on Marietta Edgecombe look like a minor rash. I don’t think you’re going to have any more luck than I did.”

Realising that Angie had been suspiciously silent, Hermione turned to look at her and found the pregnant witch standing there grinning. Irrationally annoyed, Hermione huffed, “What’s that bloody smile for? What do you know?”

“Nothing, nothing at all. I just have eyes in my head, don’t I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione demanded to know, her anger and frustration growing as a slow smile spread across Ginny’s face. Dawning comprehension evident in her expression.

Angie smiled softly at her now. “You’re too smart to be this daft, Hermione. I know that if you think about it, you’ll understand what we’re thinking. That is, unless you’ve already had the thought and you’re just afraid to admit that it might be true.” 

Feeling her face heat, Hermione cursed her perception. For once, she had no clue what to say. She was so far out of her element that she felt herself starting to panic. Again, Angie must have read something in her expression because she moved closer and wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “He fancies you too, you know. Now, that’s all I’m going to say on the matter; you need some time to process all of this. Why don’t you open your new gift and then show us all of your other fabulous pressies? I want to hear about everything you’ve been sent.”

Thankful for the change of subject, Hermione nodded, slowly making her way to the latest gift. Though she knew there was no way her friends would leave without seeing the contents of this present, she felt exposed and vulnerable opening it in front of them. It just felt very personal.

As she untied the bow, she noticed that there was a note on the envelope. It instructed:

_Open the present first._

Carefully, not wanting to tear the beautiful paper, she unwrapped the package and found a blue velvet box in the same shade as the ribbon. It wasn’t the right size for jewellery, but her heart pounded, not knowing what could be inside. She opened the lid and gasped aloud. Nestled in a cushioned satin interior was a stunning snowflake ornament. Lifting it out carefully, she examined it closely. It appeared to be incredibly fragile, but it wasn’t made of glass or any other material that she could identify. Hopeful that there would be an explanation in the card, she ripped open the envelope and read:

_Hermione,_

_This is a real snowflake that’s been enlarged and charmed to last forever. Although it appears to be fragile, it’s unbreakable. It’s special, not only because all snowflakes are unique, but because this one has been touched by only two human hands — yours and mine. If you look closely, you can see a few places where the pattern is disrupted; that’s where our hands, and only our hands, have touched it._

_I want you to know that no matter what you decide when you learn my identity, that you have touched my life and I’ll be forever changed because of you._

  
  


_Your Christmas Admirer_

With tears running down her cheeks, Hermione took a moment to try and compose herself before she spoke. More than ever, she wanted to be alone. The sentiment of the gift and message tugged at her heart and made her long for things to work out with this man. But, and it was difficult to even consider, what if it wasn’t Fred? She wanted a relationship, this relationship, but she wanted it with him. If all of this wasn’t coming from him, how would she handle that disappointment?

“Hermione?” Angie touched her shoulder gently. She turned, and Angie gasped. “Oh no, is it something bad this time?

Shaking her head, Hermione struggled to get the words out. “No, it’s just so wonderfully thoughtful and sweet that it…” she trailed off, knowing that they would understand what she’d meant.

Needing a few minutes alone, she thrust all of the cards into Angie’s hand. “Here, read these. They’re in order. I just need to go wash my face. I’ll answer any questions that you have when I get back.”

When she walked out of her bedroom a few minutes later, feeling a bit better, Angie and Ginny were both waiting for her on the sofa. They motioned for her to take the spot between them. After hugging her and reassuring her that everything would work out, they abruptly changed the subject, for which Hermione was grateful. She needed time to process everything for herself.

Finally, Ginny looked at her watch. “Woah, it’s getting really late. I suspect that Fred and George will be trying to close up by now. I do need a few things from the shop but I don’t want to keep them tonight. I’ll just stop by tomorrow and grab what I need. Would the two of you mind very much if I dish out a bit of the food to bring home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to WrathofMacy for beta reading and creating the lovely graphic. I think the one in this chapter is my favorite! It’s so pretty! ❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄


	7. The Set Up

Once Ginny sorted her portion of food and departed, Angie asked, “Ready to go? We can floo through to the flat and leave the food in the kitchen while we go down to the shop and see if they need help closing up.”

Hermione nodded, wondering if it might be best if she just stayed home tonight, but, remembering her promise to Fred, she decided to go. What would it hurt to have dinner with her friends? Fred didn’t have a clue about the inner turmoil that she was dealing with, and it was no reason to stay at home. In fact, it would be good to go and hopefully take her mind off of things.

Stepping through the floo and into Fred’s flat above WWW, Hermione followed Angie into the kitchen where they left the food on the counter. Then, they went downstairs into the shop where they saw Fred locking the door behind the last customer as George counted the money in the till.

George noticed them first and a smile lit his face. “Hello, lovely ladies, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

Angie moved in for a kiss. “We’ve been out shopping all day. We were famished, and I was desperately craving the Italian food that Hermione had for us last film night. I convinced her to take me to the restaurant to pick up takeaway and we thought that the two of you might be hungry as well.”

“Oh, bless you; seriously, I’m exhausted. I want a shower, some food, and my bed.”

By the time he finished speaking, Fred had made it over to where they stood. “Did someone say food?”

Hermione smiled at him. “Yes, it’s upstairs in your flat. What’s left to do down here? Just clearing up?”

Fred nodded. “Yep, we have staff coming in early to replenish the stock. We just need to check for anything that’s out of place.”

“Well, why don’t the two of you head upstairs and have your showers? I’m assuming that George either has clothing in the flat or can borrow something of yours, yes?”

“He does, but since there’s only the one shower, we can’t both use it at the same time.” Turning to George he suggested, “You go on up. Have a shower. Hermione can help me down here and we’ll be up in a few. But take Angie with you, she looks dead on her feet.”

Angie began to protest, “I’m fine, really. I sat at the restaurant while we waited for our food and then at Hermione’s before we came here.”

Upon closer examination, Hermione noticed just how exhausted Angie really looked. “No, go on up. You can start opening up the food and getting the plates and drinks out so we can eat as soon as Fred is out of the shower.”

Acquiescing, Angie followed George up the stairs. Turning to Fred, Hermione asked, “What do you need me to do?”

“We had the staff check the shelves for anything out of place before they left an hour ago, so it shouldn’t be too awful. Really, we just need to walk up and down the aisles and see if anything has been put in the wrong spot or dropped on the floor.” He pointed, “You start here, and I’ll start over there. We can meet in the middle.”

She turned to head toward the area that he indicated when he called out to her, “Oh, and Hermione?”

Pausing to see what he needed, she gasped when Fred’s arms came around her middle from behind. Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, “Thank you for bringing dinner, and helping, and just for stopping by. I’m happy that you’re here.” Then, as she started to turn her head to tell him that she was happy to be there and that it wasn’t a problem to help, his warm, soft lips brushed against the corner of her mouth. Before she could react, he released her and was gone.

Had he intended to kiss her lips, or had he been aiming for her cheek and missed when she moved? She floated through the aisles on autopilot. The mindless task doing nothing to distract her from the way even a potentially accidental kiss had made her feel.

Even if she could convince herself that Fred had intended to kiss her on the cheek in a purely platonic way, there had been nothing platonic about that hug. The way he’d pressed himself against her back, enveloping her fully in his embrace… she shivered just thinking about it. Flustered now, Hermione forced herself to focus on finishing up quickly so she could go upstairs, eat, and get home to think about everything. 

Rounding a corner, she groaned. Someone, she hoped it was a child who had escaped the notice of whatever adult had accompanied them to the shop, otherwise, it was just a complete arsehole, had dumped all of the merchandise from one shelf onto the floor. A couple of the boxes were even opened and the products had spilled out. Getting to work, she started by placing all of the undamaged boxes back in their proper place. She would need to get Fred to assess the damage to the inventory. 

Before she’d even picked up half of the undamaged boxes, Fred was by her side. “What happened here?”

“Someone, I’m choosing to believe it was a child, dumped all of this onto the floor. I started with the undamaged products first, and planned to ask what you wanted to do with what’s spilled.”

Fred sighed deeply, scrubbing his hands over his face. “This is why the holiday rush is a double-edged sword. We make record sales, which is great, but we aren’t able to monitor customers as closely and things like this happen. We have anti-shoplifting charms up, but we haven’t found a way to prevent damage yet.” He paused, glancing over at Hermione with a resigned look on his face. “Why don’t you go on up and eat? I’ll take care of the mess. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Hermione shook her head. “You are barking mad if you think I’m leaving you to do this by yourself. You’re clearly knackered and if we work together it won’t take as long. I’ll finish what I’ve already started while you check to see if any of the rest is salvageable. It looks like some of the Snack Boxes had individually wrapped sweets; those look like they’re fine, you'll just need to repackage them.” She placed a hand on Fred’s arm. “I know that you’re likely overwhelmed and looking forward to getting upstairs and having a shower. If you get me a container for the things that can be saved and a bin where I can dump the rest, I can take care of it for you. I don’t mind at all.”

Gratitude, and something else that Hermione couldn’t put her finger on, shone in Fred’s eyes as he smiled at her. “Thank you, I really appreciate your help.” Then, without another word, he summoned a box, and a bin, and got to work.

Hermione had been right. Once they were working together, it took less than ten minutes to finish up. Chatting amicably, they climbed the stairs that led to Fred’s flat only to go silent when he opened the door. 

Instead of the chatter of Angie and George that they should have heard, the sound of sultry jazz music filled the dimly lit room. Upon further investigation, they found that the flat was empty. The table in the small dining area was set for only two and covered with a white tablecloth. Someone had set out fancy crystal stemware, a bottle of wine, and placed a pair of lit taper candles in the middle of the table. In short, the ambiance screamed romance.

Hermione, flabbergasted by the over-the-top obviousness of the situation, murmured, “They’ve set us up.” Which, when she thought about it, she should have expected. She wondered if this had been the plan all along, and that was why Ginny had decided to leave so abruptly. Oh, she would definitely be confronting the meddling witches about this!

Fred interrupted her thoughts with a burst of laughter. “What’s so funny?” she asked, slightly worried that he found the idea of a romantic dinner with her to be ridiculously amusing.

He shook his head, still laughing a bit. “Do they think we were born yesterday?”

What did he mean by that? Was he alluding to the fact that he knew that everyone had noticed them cuddled together on film night, or that they’d been spending so much time together? Or was he implying that he was her secret admirer and knew that George and Angie were aware of that fact and trying to help things along by setting this up? It was all so confusing!

Turning to Fred, she smiled. She needed a few minutes alone to calm her nerves. “Now that Angie and George have left, if you're exhausted and want to be alone, I can go home too.”

“No, please stay. I would love the company. Do you mind if I go have a shower though? I won’t be long.”

“Of course not, take your time. I’ll just set up the food. It looks like they took some and left the rest for us.” He nodded, turning to walk away when she had a thought. “Fred, if you prefer, I can turn off the music and blow out the candles.”

Looking over his shoulder, he winked at her causing a flutter low in her belly. “No, leave it. I think it’s nice, don’t you?”

Before she could answer, he disappeared down the hallway. She heard a door close, and the shower turn on. Much like the day that they’d gone shopping for Arthur’s gift, Hermione decided that the best course of action would be to stop analysing the situation and trying to speculate about Fred’s thoughts. Instead, she would live in the moment and see what happened. 

By the time Fred returned, she’d dished up portions of everything for both of them and poured the wine. As they took their seats at the table, Fred reached over, grabbing her hand and squeezing it lightly. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Hermione was glad she stayed too, even if she was out of her mind with the nerves of being thrust into such a romantic scenario by surprise. Admonishing herself for being so uneasy around someone who was typically a source of comfort to her, she smiled at him. “I am too. Now, I know you’re starved, so we should eat.” 

He nodded, then did something that both shocked and thrilled her. Before he released her hand, he brought it to his lips, placing a kiss just above her knuckles. She tried, and failed, to resist reacting to the chill that ran down her spine because Fred was watching her intently. His lips curving into the barest hint of a smile as he turned his attention to the food.

As they ate, Fred lightened the mood with a few funny anecdotes. Dramatically rolling his eyes, he began to recount one story from earlier. “This lady came into the shop today with three young boys that looked like they were triplets. Their mum was obviously ready to pull her hair out. Well, the boys, who were around Victoire’s age, were positively enthralled with the Pygmy Puffs. That gave her what she thought was a brilliant idea. She approached George and actually asked him if she could leave them for a few hours while she finished her shopping!”

Regretting the sip of wine that she’d just taken, Hermione struggled to breathe through her laughter. Fred conjured her a glass of water and waited until she’d calmed down before he added, “That’s not even the best part. After George told her that we weren’t a childminding service, he caught her trying to sneak away without the children.”

After dinner, they took their wine and tiramisu to the sofa. Hermione laughed, “I’m sorry that the meal is the same as the one we had at my house. Angie was adamant that she had to have everything we had that evening. The rest of the menu looks amazing too. I would love to sample some of the other dishes eventually. I’m willing to bet that everything made in Nonna’s kitchen is delicious.”

Much like the night they’d shared this meal at her house and the restaurant had been mentioned, Fred choked on his food. Hermione wondered about this, but lost her train of thought when he suggested a moment later, “Maybe we can go together for a nice dinner after Christmas is over.”

“I would love that.”

Hermione noticed Fred’s pleased smile as he turned his focus back to his pudding. It was always confusing, and yet interesting when he had a seemingly shy moment. She couldn’t help but notice that those instances were becoming more frequent as they spent more time alone together, and that was definitely something to consider.

When they were both done, they sat sipping their wine companionably. Fred glanced in her direction, then seemed to hesitate before setting his glass on the coffee table and taking her hand. “Would you possibly consider reading to me? I… I’m tired, but my brain is still wide awake. It always relaxed me when you would read to me while I recovered after the war. If you need to get home, I understand, but...”

She cut him off, beaming in his direction. “Of course I’ll read to you. What did you have in mind?”

“Really, you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not. Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

He grinned at her. “Now that is the truth; whatever you fancy is fine. To be honest, I could listen to you reading a potions text and be happy.” He poked her side gently, teasingly, his eyes full of mischief. “I do have a shelf full of books in my bedroom, but I reckon that you have a tome or ten stashed in that magic bag of yours.”

Hermione tried to repress a giggle at his very accurate assumption. Instead, it came out as a strangled snort that made Fred roar with laughter. Once they’d calmed down a bit, she decided, “I would prefer to see what you have; maybe I’ll find something that I haven’t read.”

Knowing that Fred was knackered, Hermione made a suggestion, hoping that she wasn’t going to make him feel uneasy. She wouldn’t typically worry that Fred would be uncomfortable in the least, but his recent uncharacteristic behavior gave her pause. “Why don’t you change into your pyjamas and get into bed? I can sit next to you and read, that way if you happen to fall asleep I won’t have to wake you. It’s not like I would be able to carry you, or even levitate you, all the way to your bedroom.”

Ten minutes later, Fred was ready for bed and Hermione was perusing his bookcase. As he settled himself under the blankets, her eyes fell upon a title that she’d been meaning to read. “Have you already read _Hour Game_?”

He smirked at her, clearly hearing the note of disbelief in her voice. “I have. Haven’t you?”

“No, not yet.”

“Well, you’re welcome to take it home and finish it. You loaned me his other book about that pair of private investigators. Since I really liked that one, I checked to see if he had any other books when I went into muggle London back in November. I knew I would need something to help me relax after busy nights in the shop, so I bought it. I just finished it last week.”

Hermione nodded, approaching the bed where Fred had left a spot next to him that was clearly meant for her. Feeling nervous again, she removed her shoes and sat down, staying on top of the covers.

He shot her a reproachful look and lifted up the edge of the blanket. She slid in, but still left a gap between them until Fred murmured, “Come here.”

Fuck it, she thought, she may as well get comfortable and enjoy herself. Snuggling into Fred’s side, she opened the book and began to read.

Before she’d even finished the first chapter, she heard a soft snore. Silently, she tried to extract herself from his embrace. When she did, he grumbled, pulling her closer to his body and wrapping both arms around her waist.

“Fred,” she whispered, attempting to wiggle free once again. He shifted slightly, but it was only to bury his face in her hair. “Fred, I need to go home so you can get some sleep.”

He inhaled deeply. “No… stay… you feel so good.”

Gods, did she ever want to stay. It was so tempting, but they hadn’t discussed it and she didn’t want to overstep the boundaries of whatever it was that was happening between them. 

“Want to kiss you properly.”

Hermione’s breath hitched, and she felt a swooping sensation low in her belly as she imagined what it would feel like to kiss Fred. She wanted that very much. 

Still warring with herself over what to do, she decided to wait just a little longer. Maybe read another chapter or two. Fred would likely let her go, or at least loosen his grip, when he was more soundly asleep. And it really was lovely to be wrapped up in his arms, so warm and cosy.

As she did most nights, and without realising that it was happening, Hermione drifted off to sleep in the middle of a chapter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to WrathofMacy for her wonderful beta skills!


	8. The Fun Aunt

The following morning, Hermione woke abruptly, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. A horrid noise filled her ears, an incessantly loud shrieking. The sound stopped suddenly and her brain finally registered that it had been an alarm. Realising now where she was, her stomach flipped wildly, but she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or excitement.

With an apologetic smile in place, she rolled over and met Fred’s gaze. ”I’m so sorry. I didn’t intend to fall asleep like that. I’ll be going now so that you can get ready for work.”

Without waiting for him to respond, she tossed the covers off and tried to sit up, but her attempt was futile; Fred’s arms held her tightly in place. “Why are you trying to leave so quickly? There’s absolutely no need to run off or apologise. Hermione, look at me.”

Hesitantly, she turned to face him, waiting to listen to whatever he had to say. Seeing the genuine smile on his face helped her nerves some, but she still felt absolutely mortified. How had she allowed herself to fall asleep like that?

“How many times do you think I’ve found you sleeping on a sofa at The Burrow, or in the Gryffindor Common Room because you fell asleep reading?”

She shrugged and said quietly, “I’m not sure.”

He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m not either, but it has to be in the hundreds by now. So, that means that I knew that there was a very good chance that you would fall asleep when I asked you to climb in here with me to read. If I minded, I wouldn’t have done that. I would’ve insisted that we read on the sofa, or not asked you to read in the first place.”

Winking at her cheekily, he continued, “I don’t have long before I have to go down to help George open the shop, but I do have time to eat. Will you stay for breakfast?”

If she stayed, there was a chance that George would pop in and see her there, especially if Fred ran a bit late. Was she willing to take that chance? Fred would likely tell him anyway, she reasoned. Honestly, having him know wasn’t even her issue; it was the teasing that was sure to happen if George saw her there that gave her pause. Shutting her brain off and going with her heart, she heard herself saying, “I would love to stay for breakfast, thanks.”

His face split into a wide grin. Finally releasing her, he sat up. “I should get dressed. You can have the loo first while I grab what I need from in here.”

“Thanks; when I’m done, I’ll go start the tea and poke around a bit to see what we can make. Any preference?”

“Erm, no,” Fred said, looking a little sheepish. “I’ve invited you to stay for breakfast and I don’t even know if I have actual food in the house.”

Hermione giggled. “I’m sure I can find something edible in there.”

Fred had been right, he didn’t have much, but as she examined the contents of his pantry and fridge, a plan formed. He had basic dry ingredients, butter, milk, two very mushy bananas, and a single egg. She made a fantastic banana bread that was easy enough, but it took a bit longer to bake and she knew that Fred would be in a rush to get downstairs.

Inspiration struck when she spotted a bottle of maple syrup. Mixing up her banana bread batter, she heated some butter in a pan and went to work making banana pancakes. They would have been better if he’d had walnuts or pecans, or even chocolate chips, but these would make a delicious breakfast nonetheless.

By the time Fred entered the kitchen, Hermione was busy plating up their stacks of pancakes. “What smells so delicious, and how on earth were you able to make something suitable for consumption out of what I had?”

Feeling accomplished, and a bit playful, Hermione took a page out of his book and winked at him. “Magic,” she answered with a little chuckle.

“Cheeky witch,” he retorted, shaking his head. Still grinning, he helped her carry everything to the table.

Hermione watched as Fred took his first bite. “MMMMM, oh, this is amazing. Can I move in? You can spoil me with your fabulous food?”

Even knowing that it had been said in jest, Hermione couldn’t help imagining how lovely it would be to wake up with Fred every morning. Her tummy gave a happy little flutter at that image. Not having a clue how to respond, she took a large bite.

Thankfully, the awkward moment passed and they chatted amicably between bites while sipping tea. Finally, Fred glanced down at his watch and sighed. “I’ll have to go downstairs in just a minute. I’m sorry that I have to leave you so soon. I wish I could stay and have a long chat. This morning has been so much fun that I don’t want to leave. Thank you for making this amazing breakfast; it was much better than anything I could have come up with.” 

He rose, carrying both of their plates to the sink. “Stay as long as you want. Finish your tea, heck, you can even go back to bed if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but I better go home. I’ve nearly finished my tea anyway. I have client gifts that I was planning to deliver today. I should go home and get started on that. It will take me most of the day.” 

Fred waved his wand over the dishes and they began to rapidly wash themselves. When they were done, he waved it again and they dried and flew into the cupboard. Hermione grinned at him as she grabbed her coat, bag, and the book that she was borrowing from him. 

It was when he followed her to the floo that she started to feel a little awkward again. She’d spent the night in his bed, then cooked him breakfast the next morning; the whole experience had been extremely domestic, and absolutely wonderful. But now that it was time to say goodbye, she wasn’t sure what she should do.

As it turned out, she didn’t have anything to worry about because Fred pulled her into a hug. He buried his face in her hair and murmured, “I can’t tell you how much I like having you here with me. Sure, I joked about moving in so that you could cook me breakfast, but it’s honestly about the way you make me feel… I could get used to it far too easily.”

Was he really doing this _now_? He had to go downstairs. For all she knew, George could already be on his way up to see what was keeping his twin. Fred drew back a bit, their faces now only inches apart. Her breath caught as she realised that he was, in fact, doing this right now. He moved forward ever so slightly… and heavy knocking sounded from the door.

“Fuck!” Fred’s uttered curse as he rested his forehead against hers made her want to laugh, effectively lightening the mood, but she didn’t make a sound. She wasn’t sure if George knew that she was in there and she didn’t want him to be made aware of her presence if he didn’t.

“FRED GET YOUR LAZY ARSE DOWNSTAIRS NOW! IF YOU’RE NOT DOWN IN FIVE MINUTES, I’M COMING IN THERE TO GET YOU”

Raising his voice slightly, Fred turned in the direction of the door so that George would hear him. “I’ll be there in one minute. Keep your hair on!” 

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” He smiled at her softly, his warm, amber coloured eyes seeking hers momentarily before he leaned down and pressed his lips lightly to hers. With another quick kiss to her forehead, he promised, “I’ll owl you later, and see you in a few days.”

Hermione could only nod dumbly as he turned and practically ran to the door of the flat. With a wink and a smile over his shoulder, he opened the door and was gone. Mechanically, she stepped into the floo, taking a pinch of the powder from the mantle, and called out her address. Upon arriving in her sitting room, she collapsed onto her sofa. Unable to resist, she touched her fingers to her lips and imagined the kiss that she was nearly certain would have happened if George hadn’t come upstairs when he did.

Resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t see Fred until Christmas Eve, Hermione got herself ready for the day and went out to deliver her gifts. Returning several hours later, she tried desperately to find ways to occupy her mind. If she wasn’t successful, she was worried that she’d end up embarrassing herself by showing up at WWW at closing time, or going to hang around the shop like some lovesick teenager.

Taking out the book that she’d borrowed from Fred, she curled up in her reading chair and tried to read. Unfortunately, even the rather captivating story provided little distraction. Her mind, for once, was unable to focus.

Sighing deeply, she allowed her mind to wander and began thinking about how busy and chaotic things had been during the holidays when she was growing up. Eventually, a plan formed. Rushing over to the floo, she made a call to Fleur. After a quick discussion, it was decided that Fleur or Bill would bring Victoire to Hermione the next day at lunchtime to spend the afternoon and evening with her favourite honorary aunt. 

When she was done with the call, Hermione hopped up, ready to make lists, and head out to pick up a few necessities. She was now eagerly looking forward to the next day and had concocted big plans to spend several hours sharing some of the traditions she’d had with her parents with the adorable little witch. 

Hermione was proud of herself for coming up with a good plan; having a child around for the day would certainly take her mind off of Fred. Not to mention, Fleur had looked like she was ready to burst into tears of gratitude as she thanked Hermione profusely for the offer.

After fighting crowds at the shops once again to get the supplies and food items that she would need, Hermione returned home to get everything prepared for Victoire’s visit. She was truly excited to spend the day with the delightful child. 

It was late that night when she finally got into bed. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Something felt _wrong_ , but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Then, it hit her. After only one night, she already missed the way it felt to sleep in Fred’s arms. She was in so much trouble!

***

By six o’clock the following evening, Hermione was absolutely knackered, and she could tell that Victoire was as well. She’d just caught the little girl rubbing her eyes. Fleur had brought her pyjamas in case she was tired before she and Bill finished the dinner out that they’d planned after Hermione’s offer to take Victoire for the day. 

They’d had a very full day, decorating gingerbread houses, going ice skating at the park near Hermione’s house, reading stories, and making a special Christmas ornament for Bill and Fleur’s tree. It was Victoire’s handprint, painted to look like Santa’s face, and it was absolutely adorable. Now, with just a few hours left until Bill and Fleur showed up, Hermione needed a little reprieve.

“Vic, why don’t you have a bath and get into your pyjamas?” Hermione pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from smiling at the pouty lip she received in response to her suggestion, and the protest that she could practically see forming in the child’s mind. Wanting to stop the bargaining and pleading before it began, she quickly came up with an appealing compromise. “You can have bubbles in your bath, and afterward we can eat dinner and watch a Christmas film on the telly.”

Hermione barely managed to hold back laughter when Victoire looked up with her big, blue eyes, batting her lashes like a professional, and asked, “Can we have pizza?” but it had been a very near thing.

Thankful that she wouldn't have a battle on her hands, Hermione quickly agreed. “We absolutely can. Let me grab my mobile and I’ll order it as soon as you’re settled in the bath.”

An hour later, Victoire, who was freshly washed, dressed in her pyjamas, and full of pizza, rested heavily against Hermione’s arm as they watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Smiling to herself, Hermione thought about the day they’d shared. It really had been fun, and she could see herself making this a tradition. If she never ended up with children of her own, she reckoned she could be the fun aunt instead.

Her contemplations were interrupted when a voice called from the floo, “Hermione?”

Peering over the back of her sofa she grinned. “I’m here, Fred. Do you want to come through?”

“If you’re not busy…” She could hear the note of uncertainty in his voice and realised that he must have determined that someone was with her watching a film in the dark, but he had no idea that it was his five-year-old niece. 

“Definitely not too busy. In fact, I have someone here who will be thrilled to see you.” Grinning down at Victoire, she saw that the little witch was so sleepy, and engrossed in the film that she’d barely moved during the exchange. In fact, Hermione wasn’t sure that she’d even noticed the floo call.

Soon, Fred was stepping through her fireplace and out into the sitting room. “Hi,” he said a little awkwardly, standing there brushing soot from his hair as he took in the scene.

“Hi, yourself. Come on over, join us. We’re watching _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_. It's one of my favourites from when I was little.”

“Who’s _we_?” He asked, still not moving.

Laughing, Hermione retorted, “Get over here and see for yourself, silly!”

When Fred rounded the corner of the sofa and saw who was resting against Hermione’s side, completely immersed in the film, his face split into a wide grin. “Vic, my little lovebug!”

Glancing briefly over at Fred, Victoire placed a finger over her lips and chastised, “Shhh, Uncle Freddie, this is a good part,” before immediately turning her attention back to the telly.

“Well, I guess I see how I rate.” Fred chucked.

Patting the cushion next to her, Hermione instructed, “Have a seat. I’m really happy that you’re here, but _how_ are you here? It’s not that late. Shouldn’t you be at the shop?”

“George and I are testing a few things out this year. Since he will have a child next Christmas, and I want to have a family at some point, hopefully, sooner than later,” he added, almost to himself, squeezing her leg briefly before continuing, “we wanted to see how we can take more time off, especially during the holidays. So, we are going to be promoting Sean and Jason and making them both managers. Since Verity left, we haven't really had anyone who could really run things day to day without one of us being there and both of those guys have really shown us that they can manage.” 

He grinned at her, pushing a curl that had fallen into her face behind her ear. It seemed to Hermione that he was moving closer to her every time she blinked, which was fine with her. “So, George left early yesterday, and I got to leave early tonight. We’re closing early tomorrow too. Our plan is to alternate like that more, and then in a few months, we will start leaving them completely alone on occasion. Hopefully, by this time next year, we’ll be able to enjoy the holidays a little more.”

“That sounds amazing for both of you! You’ll be able to enjoy the benefits of self-employment a little more now that you have capable employees. It’s really very exciting.’

“It is, thanks.” He glanced over at Victoire. “She’s out. How did she end up here with you anyway?”

Hermione sighed, remembering how desperate she had been for a distraction so she didn’t pop in on Fred. It made her ridiculously happy that he hadn’t hesitated to come see her. “Honestly, I was bored. I made sure to clear all of my projects, but I overestimated how much time I would need to prepare for Christmas. So, yesterday, I floo called Fleur and asked for them to bring Victoire over to spend the day. We’ve had the best time though. We went ice skating, decorated gingerbread houses, made a craft, read stories, and ate far too much junk food.”

At the mention of food, Fred’s stomach growled loudly. Much to Hermione’s amusement, he became adorably flustered as he explained. “I didn’t eat because I planned to see if you wanted to go grab some dinner with me, but Vic was here…” He trailed off, looking a little embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry! I should have offered already! There’s plenty of pizza in the fridge, and biscuits in the tin on the counter. Please, help yourself. I would get it for you, but I don’t think I can move,” she gestured helplessly at Victoire, who was using her side as a pillow.

Half an hour later, Fred had polished off four slices of pizza, and Hermione had lost count of the biscuits that he’d eaten. When the film was over, they switched off the telly and put on a CD of Christmas Carols. 

As they sat there listening to the lovely music, the only light from the room coming from the fairy lights on the Christmas tree and the fire that was burning low in the hearth, Fred’s arm came around Hermione’s shoulder, pulling her snugly into his side. As they chatted quietly with Victoire resting in Hermione’s lap, Fred began to trail his fingers up and down the length of her arm. 

With her head nestled cosily into the crook of Fred’s arm, Hermione allowed herself to imagine how it would feel for this to be her life. It all felt so perfectly domestic, natural, and wonderful. Realising how much she wanted this, precisely this, with Fred, her heart flipped and her tummy gave a funny little flutter.

Before she had a chance to really think about how she was feeling, Bill and Fleur arrived to collect their sleeping daughter. Hermione saw the pleasure and speculation in Fleur’s eyes as she took in the scene. Bill’s curiosity was less obvious, but his eyes drifted between the two of them, and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. 


	9. Getting Comfy

Once they had exchanged pleasantries, Bill and Fleur took Victoire home to her bed. As soon as they departed, Fred gestured to the reading chair. “Want to get comfy?” Gods, did he actually want to cuddle her without the pretense of watching a film together? 

Unless he did want to watch a film… “Do you want me to put something on the telly?” she asked tentatively.

“No, I think the music and lights are nice, don’t you?”

“I do,” she agreed, allowing him to pull her down into the chair with him. 

They settled in, Fred's arms twining around her body as she nuzzled into his chest. For a few blissful moments, they quietly laid like that. Then, she felt Fred fidget a little before he broke the silence. “Hermione?” 

The husky, breathless way that he spoke her name sent a shiver down her spine and sparked a pleasant tingle low in her belly. Lifting her head to see what he wanted, her breath caught and her heart began to pound when she met his intense gaze. Then, his arms were tightening further around her, pulling her close as he leaned down, his mouth seeking hers. And then he was kissing her; softly at first, a sweet, tender caress, his lips sliding sensually against hers. 

All she could think was, _Merlin, yes._ Finally, this was _finally_ happening, and it was _everything_. As she responded eagerly, Fred’s kisses became more insistent, his tongue darting out to trace a path across the seam of her lips. 

A quiet moan escaped as she shifted to reach him better. In one smooth motion, he rolled them so that they were on their sides facing each other. One of his hands gently stroked her face as his other reached down to grab her bum firmly. The contrasting sensations combined with the feel of his mouth on hers drove Hermione mad. She reached up, burying her fingers in his hair and pulling him closer as they proceeded to snog one another senseless.

Eventually, Hermione wasn’t sure how long it had been, Fred pulled away. He pressed tender, affectionate kisses to her lips, then one to her forehead, before wrapping his arms around her and maneuvering them so that she lay snuggled into his side with her head resting against his chest. 

Hermione felt like she could float away on a cloud of happiness as she snuggled comfortably with Fred. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and murmured, “Godric, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Sighing happily, she lifted her face for another kiss, then cuddled back into his warm embrace. After only a few minutes, she felt him exhale deeply, his chest rumbling as he quietly said, “As much as I hate to, I really need to go. George will have my head if I’m late tomorrow after leaving early tonight, and it’s nearly eleven.”

“What? How?” she asked stupidly. “It feels like Bill and Fleur just left twenty minutes ago.”

Chuckling, Fred agreed, “I know, but it really is that late. Look,” he pointed to the clock on her mantle and Hermione could see for herself that the time had managed to slip away. Kissing her forehead again, he promised, “But, I’ll see you tomorrow for Christmas. You are planning to stay the night at The Burrow, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I wouldn't miss it for anything.”

“Good, I’ll see you around four then. We’re closing at three, heading upstairs for quick showers, and then we’ll be there. Mum’s excited because she wants to serve dinner early so we can eat before exchanging presents.” 

Hermione nodded, knowing that Molly wanted to push the timeline up a bit this year. Bill and Fleur, as well as Percy and Oliver, had other plans for Christmas afternoon, so the Weasley family gift exchange would happen on Christmas Eve with only Victoire’s Santa presents and everyone’s stockings being left until Christmas morning.

Reluctantly, Hermione stood, allowing Fred to get to his feet, and walked with him to the floo. This night had turned out better than she dared to have dreamed.

After another long kiss goodnight, Fred stepped into the emerald flames. With an exaggerated wink and a brilliant smile, he was gone.

As soon as the fire died down, Hermione floated back over to her chair and sank into the warmth that still lingered from their bodies. She lay there in the soft glow of the fairy lights and thought that this may very well have been the best night of her life thus far. Who would have thought that she would be falling for Fred Weasley? If someone had suggested it, even this time last year, she would have laughed in their face.

***

The next morning, Hermione awoke to a light dusting of fresh snow outside her bedroom window where several owls waited with small parcels or cards. These would likely be from the friends that she didn’t have plans to see that day. She’d sent out her gifts the previous morning, so all she needed to do was send back a quick thank you and Happy Christmas message. 

When she was done with that and had opened her packages, she put on her dressing-gown, and a pair of thick woolen socks and went out to add a few logs to the fire and make herself a pot of tea. She planned to have a quiet morning before heading to The Burrow around noon.

After spending a few moments warming herself in front of the hearth, Hermione went into the kitchen to start the tea and saw that she had another gift from the secret admirer. With everything happening with Fred, she’d completely forgotten about him. Groaning, she made her way slowly toward the gift. What if the admirer wasn’t Fred? The thought of having to turn someone down who clearly cared for her made her queasy. 

She opened the package first this time and as soon as she saw what was inside, her breath caught in her throat and she gasped audibly. Staring open-mouthed, she felt the sharp prickle of tears sting her eyes.

As she turned the pages of the familiar book, she remembered how much she’d looked forward to their yearly Christmas Eve tradition. She’d been able to recite the words before she could read, but even now, her favorite part of this particular edition was the gorgeous illustrations. 

Running her finger over the familiar text, she recalled the story of how her parents had come to own the volume… They had been trying for several years to conceive without success. Deciding that taking a break to get away from the stress of their everyday lives would be beneficial, they went on holiday to the US in December of 1978. While there, they’d spotted the beautiful picture book in a shop and decided to purchase it for luck, and with the hope that they would read it with their child every Christmas Eve.

It was in January of 1979, shortly after they’d returned home to the UK when they discovered that they were expecting a baby due in September. Hermione had been conceived on that holiday to the US when they purchased the book. That knowledge made it especially precious to her, and it had been devastating for her to find it completely destroyed, beyond hope for even magical repair, by the death eaters who had searched her parent’s home during the war.

Having her own copy, even if it wasn’t the same one owned by her parents, was amazing. It made her so bloody happy that she felt as if she would burst. This man, this lovely, wonderful man who was taking the time to make sure to give her all of these perfect gifts deserved to have a real chance to win her heart. But what would she do if it wasn’t Fred?

Wanting to cry, both from joy, and apprehension, she opened the card with trembling fingers.

_Hermione,_

_I know how much this particular book means to you. My wish is that one day we’ll continue your family’s tradition with our children. I can imagine reading this on Christmas Eve to a sweet little girl with your lovely curls._

_Your Christmas Admirer_

Sinking down onto the floor of her kitchen, she wept. Her tears fell hard and fast as she cried in grief for her parents, in fear that things wouldn’t work out the way she so desperately hoped, and in joy that someone cared for her enough to spend the time learning exactly what she would love most. 

Eventually, she cried herself out, completely exhausted by the combination of tears and conflicting emotions. Scrubbing her hands over her now swollen face, she sighed. She still needed to get ready. If she didn’t show up, someone would come looking for her. 

Getting up off the floor, she made a pot of tea and grabbed a muffin. A glance at the clock told her that it was nearly ten already. She’d packed everything that she needed to bring with her to The Burrow, but she did want to look nice. It was Christmas after all, and she would be seeing Fred.

After eating her simple breakfast, she dashed down the stairs to her potions lab and quickly got to work. While she didn’t consider herself to be vain, she didn’t want to deal with _those_ questions today. Thankfully, she happened to have all the ingredients that she needed to whip up a salve that would remove the evidence of her crying jag.

Soon, she was soaking in a hot bath, the pale green paste that smelled faintly of cucumber and mint tingling pleasantly as it worked literal magic to soothe her irritated skin. The salts that she’d liberally added to the steamy water were quickly relaxing her tense muscles. Vaguely, she registered that she’d probably be later than her intended noon arrival at The Burrow, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The Weasleys were honestly unlikely to notice unless she was very late; they weren’t exactly punctual as a rule.

Finally, she heaved herself from the water and toweled off before wrapping her body in the warmest, fluffiest dressing gown that she owned. After applying a light dusting of make-up, she dried and styled her hair, then went into the bedroom to dress. Quickly, she slipped into the outfit that she’d selected for the day. 

The figure-hugging jeans paired nicely with the crimson wrap sweater. Adding a pair of black, low-heeled boots, a silver snowflake pendant, and matching earrings, she turned to see her reflection in the full-length mirror. It was perfect, she decided. The outfit was casual enough for a day with the Weasleys, but she felt pretty too.


	10. Christmas Eve at The Burrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderful beta, WrathofMacy!
> 
> I also want to thank the lovely moonfairy13 who helped me with a section of this chapter that I was struggling with. And for finally helping me figure out why the note from chapter one was attaching itself to every single chapter that I wrote!

Hermione had been at The Burrow for nearly two hours by the time Fred and George finally arrived, and the cosy home was bustling with activity. Victoire ran circles around the tree, asking anyone who would listen when it would be time to open presents. Ron kept disappearing into the kitchen, trying his best to get his hands on a bit of food before dinner. His attempts failed miserably each time when his mother, who was well aware of his motives, chased him out again and again. 

Everyone else milled around, chatting and sipping mulled wine, cider, or butterbeer. Hermione found herself on the sofa having a lovely conversation with Amber, Charlie’s girlfriend, an American mediwitch that worked with him at the reserve.

As they’d been waiting for Fred and George to arrive to begin dinner, Molly immediately called them all to the table upon the twins’ arrival. Hermione was pleased when Fred hung back, clearly waiting for her. He hadn’t had a chance to greet her before the masses made a mad dash for the table. When she made it to where he stood, he pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. “Hi,” he smiled, “sit by me, yeah?”

“Hi, yourself. Of course, I’ll sit next to you.” Giggling, she gestured to the only two seats left at the table, which happened to be next to each other. “Do we really have a choice?”

“I’m sure I could get someone to switch if you don’t want to sit with me.”

“As long as you promise I’m safe from any pranks, I’m happy to sit next to you.”

Fred sighed, dramatically, “I suppose I can behave myself today. It is Christmas after all.”

Hermione settled in to enjoy the delicious meal. It seemed better than usual with Fred next to her, pressing his leg against hers when they sat down and brushing the side of her hand as he passed the potatoes. He even reached down to briefly squeeze her knee while he chatted with Charlie across the table. 

All of this, after the kisses the night before, seemed to be the only thing that Hermione could think about. She tried to carry on her own conversations, but she found herself thoroughly distracted by thoughts of Fred and curiosity over what would happen next.

Just as pudding was served, Ginny spoke up. “Harry and I have a gift for mum and dad that we want to give them now.” Grinning, she looked at Harry who nodded and passed Molly a small box.

Molly unwrapped the gift and opened it, pulling out a small framed photograph. The older witch looked slightly confused as she held it aloft to show everyone. Hermione gasped aloud and clapped a hand over her mouth, immediately recognising what was in the photo frame.

Ginny grinned at everyone, clearly gauging reactions around the table before turning back to Molly. “Mum, do you know what that is?”

“I’m sorry, dear, but I don’t. The frame is quite lovely, but I feel like I’m missing something important.”

Taking Harry’s hand, Ginny announced, “We’re having a baby. That’s a photograph of the baby inside my stomach. We went to see a muggle doctor to have it done.”

There was a second or two of silence followed by a nearly deafening roar as everyone tried to shout their congratulations at once. Hermione was thrilled for her friends. She knew that Harry was going to be an amazing father. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught an exchange happening between Bill and Fleur. The couple shared a look and Hermione caught the tiniest shake of Bill’s head before he turned his attention back to Ginny and Harry. It could have been about anything, but it made Hermione wonder if they would be announcing their own baby news soon as well.

She was quickly pulled from her thoughts when Fred’s hand found hers under the table. When she dared glance in his direction, she found him watching her with an odd expression on. But she didn’t have long to contemplate what it was about before Molly asked, “When’s my new grandbaby due?”

***

  
  


They lingered at the table for a while longer until Victoire whined loudly, “Please, can’t we open our presents now?”

Everyone agreed that the little girl had been patiently waiting long enough, so the table was quickly cleared before they headed into the sitting room to begin the long process of opening the presents stacked beneath the tree. 

Hermione dashed up the stairs to use the loo before they got started. When she stepped back into the hall, she found Fred leaning against the wall across from the door. In two steps, he was standing next to her. Then, without a word, he swept her into his arms and proceeded to snog her senseless. When he released her, he grinned proudly as she wobbled a bit on shaky legs. With a cocky little wink, he slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

Making her way carefully down the stairs, all she could think about was how wonderful Fred made her feel. That kiss had left her tingling all over in the very best way. She was falling for Fred Weasley, and now, instead of being terrified, she was thrilled. For the first time in her life, it felt like a relationship might actually work the way she wanted it to.

Before she reentered the sitting room where everyone was waiting, Hermione took a moment to compose herself. It felt as if she was floating two feet above the floor, and she was well aware that she had the goofiest possible grin on her face. There were far too many observant Weasleys for it to go unnoticed if she didn’t get herself under control.

After taking a few calming breaths, she slipped into the sitting room and found a seat on the only open patch of floor, which was conspicuously located right next to George and Angie. The pregnant witch, who was leaning against George as she lounged on the rug, looked up and surveyed Hermione before nodding her approval, her face splitting into a wide grin.

Oh no! She hadn’t thought to look in a mirror. What must she look like? Were her lips swollen? Was she otherwise disheveled? Bugger it! There was nothing she could do about it now. If she got up and left the room again, she would only draw more attention to herself.

When Fred appeared a few moments later, he quickly scanned the room, flashed her a smile, and, without hesitation, plopped himself down in the tiny space between Hermione and George. His hand rested briefly against the small of her back. It was an innocent gesture, but one that caused her heart to skip a beat nonetheless.

Soon after that, it was chaos. Gifts were passed to their recipients, coloured paper flew in all directions, and shouted cries of, “Thanks!” or, “This is brilliant!” rang out from around the room.

Hermione nervously watched as Fred unwrapped her gift, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw the look of awe and pleasure light his face as he stared open-mouthed at the contents. Before she knew what was happening, she was enveloped in a tight hug, Fred practically pulling her onto his lap. “Hermione, how did you find these? They’re amazing, thank you! I can’t believe you got those specific books for me. This is the most perfect gift I’ve ever received, but honestly, it’s too much. You shouldn't have spent that much. I saw the signature, I know they’re originals.”

“You’re very welcome, I’m thrilled that you like them. And they weren’t too much, I promise. I’ll have to tell you that story later.” She pulled back, smiling at him, and pointed, “There’s one more small thing, just there.”

“More?” Fred’s brows rose into his fringe. Ripping off the paper, he burst into laughter. “You got me a Clark Griswold jumper? I love it!” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you!”

Hermione watched happily as everyone else tore into their gifts, pausing to open her own as someone passed one her way. As the pile under the tree dwindled down to nothing, she caught a small movement out of the corner of her eye and she watched curiously as George reached out to pat Fred’s leg. Wondering what that was about, she made sure to watch them in her periphery, trying to determine if they were planning a prank. Because she was paying attention, she saw Fred start to rise only to sink back down, a dejected expression on his face. 

Before she could wonder too much about Fred’s behavior, she heard gasps and turned to see Ron on one knee presenting a ring to Lavender. She couldn’t hear what he was saying from her position, but it was obvious to everyone what was going on. When Ron finished speaking, Hermione saw Lavender nod enthusiastically, holding her finger out to accept the ring before practically tackling Ron. The entire family clapped and cheered. 

Turning to look at Fred, the smile slipped from her face. For some unknown reason, he looked more upset than she’d ever seen him. Just as she was about to ask what was wrong, he turned and whispered something to George, who nodded and gave him a small smile.

Fred leaned over to her then. “I have to go take care of something, but I promise to be back as soon as I can. Please don’t run off, okay?”

Nodding, she whispered, “Okay,” but she felt anything but okay. She watched in confusion as Fred crossed the room, hugging Lavender and clapping Ron on the back before he slipped out. 

Where was Fred going? Why was he leaving during Christmas? He’d seemed genuinely upset by Ron’s proposal; had it scared him off? Had he seen how happy she’d been for both couples that evening and panicked, thinking that she would expect something from him? Gods, this was miserable, and she had to put on a happy face and go congratulate Ron and Lavender.

As Hermione analysed every interaction she and Fred had had that evening, she was struck with the realisation that he hadn't given her a gift, and then immediately felt bad for even letting the thought cross her mind. Maybe he’d forgotten it and that's why he’d gone home. Perhaps the kisses had come out of the blue for him and he hadn't been thinking of her in the way she’d been thinking of him. Maybe he _was_ her secret admirer after all. Or perhaps… perhaps this was all wishful thinking. Did he simply not want her to get the wrong idea? Hermione's theories bounced around her mind as she dissected every little detail. Finally, she sighed, unable to collect her thoughts properly.

This evening had truly been a rollercoaster. She'd gone from feeling incredible joy to absolutely a barrel load of confusion because she just couldn't make sense of what was happening with her, Fred, and her Christmas Admirer.

Pretending like nothing was wrong over the next couple of hours was maddening. Her stomach was in absolute knots. More than once, she was afraid that she would actually be sick, and when Molly brought out a tray of hot chocolate, she had to fight the urge to gag. She had no idea why she felt so strongly about this, but it was slowly dawning on her that she was way more attached to the idea of her and Fred than she had acknowledged. She wished he would return so they could discuss this, and at least she would know where she stood.

Not having the energy to chat, she commandeered a spot in a chair next to the fire and pretended to read a book about Romanian culture that had been a gift from Charlie and Amber. It was truly fascinating, and usually, she wouldn’t have needed to fake her enthusiasm for reading, but right now nothing about it was remotely interesting.

The sympathetic looks that Angie kept sending her way didn’t help either, and when the witch looked like she may come over for a chat, Hermione fled, rushing up the stairs to the bathroom. She hid inside for so long that Ginny eventually came up, knocking on the door and asking if she was alright.

Hermione waited until the others began to drift upstairs to bed, or out into the garden, before she snuck away. Finding an isolated stone bench a little way from the house she used her wand to clear it of snow and placed a warming charm on the surrounding area for good measure. Who knew how long she would be out here, and she desperately needed time alone to think.

She was truly happy for her friends. Ginny and Harry would be wonderful parents, and Lavender and Ron had been dating for years; it was past time for them to get married. Although she was thrilled for them, more than ever, she felt the lack of that deep personal relationship that they all had with their significant other. 

It had begun to feel like she was building a relationship like that with Fred, but in light of his abrupt departure, and failure to communicate properly with her before he had left, she was worried that she'd read the situation incorrectly. While he'd told her that he'd be back and made a point to ask her not to leave, she'd lost hope that he would really return after he'd been gone more than an hour.

Blast it all, she huffed out a frustrated breath as tears started to slip silently down her cheeks. Why had he kissed her earlier if… No, she wouldn’t allow herself to even think about that. He’d clearly decided that kissing her was a huge mistake. Why else would he run away with barely a word to anyone on Christmas Eve?

Her thoughts drifted to her secret admirer. At least she had a chance for happiness with him, whoever he was. Unfortunately, she knew that whoever he did turn out to be, she would be disappointed, at least initially, because she’d wished so fervently that he would be Fred.

It was just her dumb luck that right at that moment, her solitude was interrupted by George and Angie. They were walking hand and hand through the snow when they came to a stop just in front of where she sat. From their position, they couldn’t see her, but she could see, and hear them clearly.

George bent, cradling Angie’s belly, and began to murmur to the baby. “I can’t wait to meet you, little one. Next Christmas you’ll be here with us and everyone will love you. You’ll have so many fab pressies and I’m sure that Nanna Molly will feed you loads of lovely things while Grandpa Arthur and all of your aunts and uncles spoil you rotten.”

When George stood and cupped Angie’s cheeks so sweetly, his next words made Hermione’s tears flow faster. “I love you so much, thank you for agreeing to live this life with me.”

This couldn’t be happening again! How had what felt like one of the best days of her life turned so quickly to misery? She wanted nothing more than to go home to the comfort and safety of her own bed. Hiding under the covers and having a marathon cry was the only thing that seemed remotely appealing right now.

But, she’d promised Victoire that she would be there to see her open her presents from Santa the next morning. If it wasn’t for the prospect of upsetting the little girl, she wouldn’t have hesitated to leave. Now, she was going to have to pull herself together and put on a happy face, at least until after breakfast. Then she would go home, lock her floo, and wallow in self-pity as long as she felt like it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that we're almost to the end! There's only one more chapter, and the epilogue left to post. Thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos, and left me comments. Your support means so much to me!


	11. The Snowglobe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is nearly the end! Just the epilogue to go now. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!
> 
> Thank you to my beta WrathofMacy, and to moonfairy13 for her help with a few scenes that I was unsure of in this chapter.

George and Angie seemed like they weren’t in any rush to go back inside. And when George conjured a blanket and arranged it on the snow, Hermione wished for a pit to open up in the ground and swallow her up. As she watched, he helped Angie lower herself to the ground then sat behind her, providing back support. Unfortunately, the couple was still close enough that if she moved or made a sound, they were sure to see her, and she was in no mood to explain why she was crying. So, there was absolutely nowhere for her to go.

As she was desperately trying to figure out how to escape the Weasley’s garden without being noticed, someone slid onto the bench beside her. A firm, warm arm came around her waist, and before she could even turn her head, Fred whispered in her ear, “I can love you like that, you know.”

Her breath hitched and she turned, opened mouthed to face him. The smile on his face faltered and was replaced by concern when he saw that she had been crying. “Oh, love, what’s wrong?” He reached up, and ever so gently wiped away her tears.

With so many thoughts running through her head, she blurted out the question that she desperately needed him to answer. “It’s been you all along, hasn’t it?”

He nodded, uncertainty clouding his features. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yes,” she breathed, “I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am that it’s you. I’ve been afraid to hope, telling myself that I couldn’t be that lucky.” She paused, chewing on her lower lip as she tried to decide the best way to ask her next question. “If it was you all along, then why…”

“Why did I disappear tonight?”

“Yes, well, it wasn’t really that you left, it was...” she trailed off, knowing that she wasn’t making much sense.

“I didn’t take the time to give you any sort of explanation. And I’m sure that it was obvious, if you’d been watching me, that I was a little upset.”

She nodded and started to say more, but stopped when she noticed that he wasn’t finished. What would his explanation be? For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why he would run out like that.

Pulling her closer to his side and casting a fresh warming charm as hers was beginning to wear off, Fred sighed. “I’m really very sorry that I worried you tonight. I had honestly expected things to go differently. The thing is,” he smiled sadly at her, “I didn’t know that Harry and Ginny were going to announce a pregnancy tonight, nor was I aware of Ron’s plans to propose to Lavender. And I just didn’t feel right about going through with what I’d planned. It would’ve taken attention from them. They already had to share their big moments,” he shrugged as if begging her to see his point. 

That made perfect sense. Teenaged, pre-war Fred may have not thought twice about taking the spotlight from anyone, but this mature, wonderful version of Fred thought about those things. That was just one of the many reasons that she knew she was falling in love with the man beside her. “I completely understand, and I agree with your reasoning. Thank you for thinking of them.”

“Well, thinking of them, and not ruining their big news did come at a price. I still had to figure out a way to give you your pressie. I’d planned to wait until everyone else was done, save the best for last, you know?” he smiled wryly. “Then, when you unwrapped your present and immediately knew that I’d been your Admirer, I would have asked you to come for a moonlit walk in the garden with me so that I could show you privately what it does.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Really? Just what do you need to show me then?”

“Not like that, naughty little minx. It’s perfectly innocent, I’ll have you know. Your virtue is safe with me.”

“What if I don’t _want_ my virtue to be safe?” Feeling playful and a bit flirty now that she knew that everything was going exactly as she hoped, she poked his side with the tip of her finger.

“I suppose I could be persuaded, but later. _Much_ later. First I have to get on with my alternate plan. Which is why I ran off so quickly. I needed to go back to the flat and set up a few things. Would you mind heading over there with me?”

“I’d love to.” Hermione allowed Fred to take her hand and help her stand up from the bench. She felt stiff and cold, even with the warming charm, and wondered how long she’d been out there. Looking up, she saw that Angie and George were gone. Was it a coincidence that they’d been there having that conversation right in front of where she was sitting? Could Fred have seen her watching them that day? She would have to ask him later. She’d had more than enough emotional turmoil for one night.

As they entered The Burrow, Hermione noticed that it was strangely quiet. Was it really that late? She knew that everyone would be up early in the morning for a Christmas breakfast and to do Santa with Victoire before she had to leave with Bill and Fleur to go to France, but this was strange. Curiosity getting the better of her, she whispered to Fred, “Where is everyone? Why is it so quiet?” 

“Bill and Fleur were having trouble getting Victoire to settle, so they asked everyone to go to their bedrooms and put up silencing charms until they could get her to sleep. She’s so excited for Santa to come that she was bouncing off the walls. They’re all coming back out any minute now, so if you don’t want an audience when you floo off to my flat, we should probably get a move on,” he said, grinning at her. 

Instead of answering, she simply nodded and followed Fred to the floo. When they stepped out of the fireplace, she gasped. Fred’s flat had been transformed into a Christmas wonderland. Everything was decorated with white and silver, accented with bright blue. The blue wasn’t what would necessarily come to mind when Hermione thought about Christmas, but the pop of nontraditional colour was so perfectly Fred that it made her smile.

There was a Christmas tree in the corner that was covered in white snowflake ornaments, with silver and bright blue baubles. Majestic looking silver reindeer wearing silly blue ties and hair bows adorned the mantle. And in the center of the room, on the low table in front of the sofa, was a beautifully wrapped Christmas present.

After taking her coat, Fred led her to the sofa, gesturing for her to sit. When she did, he grabbed a warm, soft throw blanket and wrapped it snugly around her body. He sat next to her, kissing her cheek, and gently stroking her face. “Would you like something to drink? I know that you were outside for a long time, and I’m guessing that you haven’t had anything since dinner. Some tea maybe?”

Sighing, she considered her options. She really didn’t want Fred to move. It was far too nice sitting here with him, but she was half-frozen, and she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since the early dinner at The Burrow. Tea was probably a good idea. Smiling at Fred, she nodded, “I would love some tea if it’s not too much trouble. I think I was out there longer than I realised.”

Concern immediately clouded Fred’s features. “Do you need another blanket? More logs on the fire?”

“No, I’m fine, really. Tea will be nice though. It’ll help warm me up from the inside.” And as Fred rushed off to get it for her, she thought that what she really needed was a minute to process what had just happened. 

As she waited for Fred to return, Hermione rested her head back against the cushions of the sofa. She was just so damn tired. Closing her eyes, she took a deep, cleansing breath. This day had been so full of emotional ups and downs that she was completely and utterly drained. 

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realise Fred had come back into the room until he was suddenly next to her, pulling her onto his lap and cradling her against his chest. “Is something wrong, love? What can I do?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. I’m just a little tired, but at the same time, I’m incredibly happy. I love just sitting here with you like this.” She felt Fred physically relax, and had to stifle a laugh at his overreaction. His concern for her was very sweet.

There was more that she wanted to say, but she was having a hard time finding the right words. She took a second to gather her thoughts before continuing, and Fred didn’t fill the silence; he seemed to understand that she wasn’t finished. Turning slightly, she reached up to stroke his face. “When you kissed me again this afternoon, I can’t begin to describe how wonderful it made me feel. And now that I know it’s been you all along, well… I’m the happiest that I’ve been in a very long time.”

Fred ran his fingers lightly through her hair, pulling her back down to rest against his chest before murmuring. “So, you’re not still upset that I left like I did? I’ll admit that it was mostly my own stupid need to create shock and awe and make a production of everything. If I would have stopped to think, even for a second, I would have realised that it was going to hurt you.”

Sitting up enough to examine his face, Hermione saw the regret. “Fred,” she whispered gently, “I’m not upset with you, and I definitely don’t want you to think you need to change something about yourself. Being with you makes me feel happy and safe.” She laughed then and he looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

“What exactly is so funny about feeling happy and safe with me?”

“It’s just that since I accidentally slept here a few nights ago, I haven’t been able to sleep very well. I tossed and turned for hours the first night before I realised that I wasn’t nearly as comfy on my own as I’d been curled up in your arms, and I missed it. I missed you.” She shrugged as she continued, “It’s funny because it was only one night, it shouldn’t have felt so normal so quickly.”

“Good, I like knowing that it wasn’t just me!” Fred murmured before his lips covered hers. This kiss was different from the others; it was slow, sensual. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was because her emotions were already so close to the surface, but the way it felt like Fred was pouring his soul into this kiss had her eyes filling with tears behind her closed lids. She refused to allow them to fall though, not wanting Fred to think that he’d done something wrong.

As soon as he pulled away, she buried her face against his chest. The intimate feel of his arms cradling her while she snuggled into him was exactly what she wanted. But it also allowed her time to make sure that her eyes wouldn’t be wet when she lifted her face.

They sat quietly like that for a few more minutes before Fred asked, “Can I give you your gift now?”

“Yes, please, although you’ve already given me so many wonderful things that I really don’t need anything else.”

Fred shifted her so that she was sitting on the sofa next to him, instead of on his lap. Then, he reached out and grabbed the package off the table. Handing it to her, he smiled. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Fred.” Carefully, she began to remove the paper. Soon, she was left with a box that looked like it could hold one of those candles that came in a jar, or something else of a similar size and shape. Removing the lid, she reached inside and pulled out a lovely snow globe. But this was no ordinary snow globe. Aside from the circular silver base and glass dome, she could tell that it was magical, felt it hum beneath her fingertips.

Snow swirled inside revealing glimpses of different things, almost like a film or maybe a pensive, but it changed too quickly for her to be able to make anything out. She looked at Fred in awe, knowing that whatever she held, he had most certainly created it. “It’s beautiful... please tell me how it works. Is it some sort of Pensieve?”

“It’s not a Pensieve, but you’re close. This is a DreamDome. Instead of storing your memories, it can hold your dreams, your fantasies. George and I started developing it as one of our study aids. We thought it could be used as a way to easily keep a dream diary, but then we realised its potential for our adult line, so we’re making it for both and just packaging it differently. What I’m sharing with you is neither a dream diary, nor _those_ types of fantasies, though I wouldn’t be opposed to that at a later date,” he said with a wink. “The images that you’re about to see in that snow globe reflect how I imagine my life.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her softly, before quietly adding, “When I think about how I want to spend the next eighty years or so…”

“Oh, Fred,” she sighed, her heart stuttering. He was truly the sweetest man. “This is brilliant. Will you show me how it works?”

“Of course.” Tapping his wand lightly against the snow globe, Fred murmured an incantation, “Phantasia adclaro.” He lowered his wand, his arm slipping around her waist and pulling her in close.

The swirling images inside the glass dome immediately slowed and shifted into recognisable figures. When Hermione gasped, Fred whispered close to her ear, “I lied, the first one _is_ a memory.”

She nodded, all of her questions from earlier answered. Fred _had_ seen her that day in early December, when she’d watched the interaction between George and Angie. Biting her lip, she asked, “So, tonight when they just happened to say similar things right in front of me in the garden… Was that all staged?” Gods, she hoped that Angie and George didn’t know how sad she’d been that day, just from watching them.

“It was,” Fred admitted, and it seemed as if her fears were founded. How embarrassing, she thought, staring resolutely at the snow globe, wanting to avoid Fred’s gaze. “But,” he touched her arm, waiting until she looked at him, “I didn’t tell them what I saw. I just asked them to help me by going out and acting ridiculously sappy in front of you, which they’re apparently wont to do anyway.”

Sighing in relief, she smiled. “Thank you, I’m happy to know that I won’t need to avoid them now.”

Fred gestured toward the snow globe as the scenes began to change in rapid succession… the two of them enjoying a romantic dinner in what was obviously Trattoria Bella Rosa, Fred on one knee presenting a ring to her, Hermione walking down the aisle in a beautiful white gown toward a smiling Fred, the two of them hanging the snowflake ornament on a Christmas tree, a hugely pregnant Hermione lounging in bed with a little girl that had auburn curls tucked between them as they read _The Night Before Christmas._

The images faded into a swirling mist once again. Hermione turned to Fred, knowing, but no longer caring, that she had tears in her eyes. “Fred,” she breathed, running her fingers through his hair. She couldn’t believe how vulnerable he’d been willing to make himself. He’d laid everything out. Made it so she didn’t have to wonder about his intentions at all. Showing her his innermost thoughts, his dreams, was the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced. “I want that with you. I can’t wait to experience it, all of it.”

“Really?” 

A soft smile on her face, Hermione nodded. “I really do. I know it's fast, and it may sound a little mad, but I’m falling in love with you.”

Fred let out a whoop of joy before smoothly rolling and flipping both of them so that they lay together along the length of the sofa facing each other, “I love you, Hermione. I’ve already fallen head over heels for you, and I really do want to spend my life with you.”

He smiled at her, eyes sparkling. “Will you have dinner with me at Trattoria Bella Rosa after we close on Boxing Day?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll have dinner with you.”

Then, he was kissing her, snogging her breathless, actually. When they finally broke apart, Hermione rested her head comfortably in the crook of Fred’s arm. Very near sleep, something occurred to her. “Fred?”

“Yes, love?”

“When did we both touch the snowflake that you used to create my ornament?”

He grinned broadly. “The day at the beginning of December when you came to Sunday roast at The Burrow. Do you remember, when I suggested a snowball fight, how at the end you smashed that snowball in my face?”

Hermione nodded and replied, “I remember.”

“Well, when no one was looking, I put that snow under a stasis charm and put it into my pocket. When I got home, I enlarged it all and found the perfect snowflake to use.”

Warm, snuggly, and having all of her questions answered at last, Hermione started to drift off to sleep. Suddenly, Fred was shaking her awake. “Love, we need to decide where we’re sleeping tonight. If we’re staying here, let’s head to my bed. I don’t fancy sleeping all night on the sofa and waking up with sore necks. Do you want to stay here and just go back to The Burrow early enough that we don’t miss Victoire opening her presents from Santa, or would you rather go back to The Burrow, where I’m fairly certain that you and I have been assigned separate sofas in the sitting room? With everyone home this year, there aren’t enough beds.”

Her sleep-addled brain had trouble making sense of what he was saying at first. When she processed what he was saying, she decided, “Let’s stay here. Your bed sounds good to me. I want to sleep next to you.”

***

  
  


Early the next morning, Hermione was jolted from sleep by the sound of a very amused throat being cleared. Opening her eyes slowly, she saw Ginny’s smiling face. “It’s about time the two of you figured it all out. Now, get your arses up and get back to The Burrow. As soon as Vic wakes up we have to be ready; you remember what it was like at that age, she’s not going to want to wait for anyone.”

When Fred sat up, hair askew, Ginny screeched, “Fred Weasley! If you’re naked under there, I do _not_ want to see. Give me a minute to leave for Merlin’s sake!”

Clutching at his chest, Fred gasped, “ _Ginevra_ , I’ll have you know that I _am not_ that kind of wizard. We haven’t even had our first proper date yet. What do you take me for?”

Ginny laughed, rushing from the room. A moment later, they heard the floo and knew she was gone. Fred turned to Hermione. “Good morning, my love. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Fred.” 

And it truly was a happy Christmas. Hermione didn't know what would happen next, but she knew that she was looking forward to her future with Fred. As they enjoyed the rest of the day back at The Burrow, she couldn’t help but wonder what Christmas would be like in the years to come.


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to the end, and I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read, left comments, or kudos on this story! Your support has meant so much. 
> 
> To moonfairy13 and WrathofMacy, thank you! Both of you have been there throughout this entire process, and I appreciate everything you've done.
> 
> I know that this holiday season isn't what most of us are used to, so my wish is that each of you are safe, happy, and healthy wherever you are. Happy holidays everyone!

## Christmas Eve, One Year Later

Hermione awoke slowly. Not ready to get up yet, she lay still. She was perfectly warm and cosy, snuggled into the arms of her fiancé. Sighing happily, she thought back to his proposal just a few weeks prior. It had been perfect; he’d taken her back to Trattoria Bella Rosa, the site of their first date. 

Hermione should have realised that something was up when the note had arrived with Matilda at lunchtime. It said:

_Let’s go to dinner tonight. Can you be ready for seven? Wear something pretty._

_I love you,_

_Your Christmas Admirer_

If she’d been paying closer attention she would have noticed that it had been precisely one year since she’d received the first gift, and note, from her “Christmas Admirer.” That lunch delivery from Trattoria Bella Rosa had been the beginning of their relationship, and the catalyst in forming a wonderful bond with the owner of the restaurant and her grandson.

When Fred had arrived to pick her up and announced that they were going to Trattoria Bella Rosa, she still didn’t suspect anything. They had been regulars there since their very first date when Nonna had ushered them into a small, private dining area and proceeded to fuss over them, presenting all sorts of delicious dishes to try, many of which weren’t even on the regular menu. It had been a wonderful, memorable evening.

Upon arrival at the restaurant, they were again taken to the private dining area. They hadn’t used this room since their first date. That was when Hermione wondered if something was going on, but she brushed the feeling aside. The restaurant was very busy. It was possible that they were just being given preferential treatment as “part of the family.”

By the time their meal was finished and they were ordering pudding, Hermione had forgotten all about that momentary feeling of suspicion. But when the waiter slipped out, Fred took both of her hands across the table and gazed deeply into her eyes.

His words to her that night would be forever ingrained in her memory. “Hermione, this past year with you has been the most amazing year of my life. I love you.”

Then he stood, coming around to her side of the table. She felt tears spring to her eyes as she gathered what was happening. He knelt next to her chair, extending his hand and holding out a beautiful ring. “Will you make me the happiest wizard alive and say that you’ll marry me?”

“Yes!” she’d exclaimed, jumping into his arms and nearly knocking him to the floor. As they kissed, she’d heard the sound of a door opening, and loud cheers filled the room. She looked up to see waiters and waitresses filing into the room, carrying all sorts of desserts and bottles of champagne, followed by their family and friends, and of course Luca and Nonna.

Hermione felt Fred stir next to her and was brought back to the present. She rolled over and saw that his eyes were open. Snuggling close, she leaned up for a kiss and had the happy thought that they didn’t have anywhere to be. Fred and George weren’t going into the shop at all that day, so they could stay in bed all morning if they wanted to. They only had to make it to The Burrow in time for dinner.

## ***

## Christmas Eve, Three Years Later

Already exhausted from the evening’s festivities, Hermione Weasley lounged in bed waiting for her husband to join her. She was in their assigned room in the new addition at The Burrow.

As the couples had all married and started having children, it became apparent that more rooms were necessary to accommodate their rapidly growing family. Both the kitchen and the sitting room had been enlarged, and a playroom, several bedrooms, and a couple of bathrooms had been added to the home. This had allowed Molly to continue having them all stay over for Christmas, among other annual festivities.

Wondering what was keeping Fred, Hermione started to get up to go see, but just as she began to sit up, the door opened and he came in carrying a book. “What on earth? Where did that come from?” She squinted; was that a picture book?

He grinned at her. “You forgot this. I went back home to get it.” Sitting down on the bed, he held it out to her.

Confused, she asked, “Why do we need this now? We don't-”

Caressing the slight swell of her tummy, he leaned down to kiss her. “It’s Little Bean’s first Christmas. I wanted to make sure that we don’t miss out on starting your favourite tradition.”

With a watery smile, Hermione sniffed. “This is why I love you so much, Fred. You’re the best husband, and you’re going to be an amazing father. I can’t believe you thought of this. Thank you.”

“I love you too.” Passing her the book, he instructed, “Now read us a story, mummy. We like your voice the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve enjoyed this, please leave me a note! And subscribe or check back soon, because I have more Fremione in the works! 
> 
> 🎄❤️❄️🎄❤️❄️🎄❤️❄️🎄❤️❄️🎄❤️❄️


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